


Sophrosyne

by Shatterpath



Series: Reinvent [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Gender Changes, Dimension Travel, F/F, F/M, Genderbending, Genderswap, Magic, Other, Swingers, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-25
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-01-17 01:01:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 40
Words: 182,848
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1368154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shatterpath/pseuds/Shatterpath
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sophrosyne - (n) a healthy state of mind, characterized by self-control, moderation, and a deep awareness of one's true self, and resulting in true happiness.</p><p>What might <span class="u">really</span> happen when someone finds themselves instantly changed from a woman to a man and all the insanity and relearning that follows.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sudden Change

**Author's Note:**

> Email: shatterpath@shatterstorm.net  
> Rating: Hard R  
> Pairing: Regina Mills/ Genderbent Emma Swan  
> Date Written: begun in December 2012. Still a work in progress!  
> Warnings: GENDERBEND WITH HETROSEXUAL SEX. Scattered violence, multiple partners, lots of swearing.  
> Archive: ShatterStorm Productions & AO3 only…all others ask for permission & we'll see.  
> Feedback: Constructive criticism is always welcome.  
> Beta: Several people flaked on me during a beta and I was unable to find anyone to help me, so all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Disclaimer: "Once Upon a Time," the characters, and situations depicted are the property of Adam Horowitz, Edward Kitsis, Kitsis/Horowitz, and ABC Studios. This piece of fan fiction was created for entertainment not monetary purposes. Previously unrecognized characters and places, and this story, are copyrighted to the author. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author. This site is in no way affiliated with "Once Upon a Time," ABC, or any representatives of the actors.
> 
> Author’s Notes: On 12-13-12, Ariestess and I had an IM conversation about how many less than satisfactory genderbends existed. So, as a matter of writer pride, I decided I would show the universe how to do it well. I have to say that I had no idea what a monster of a fic this would turn out to be nor how emotionally freeing is was to explore.
> 
> Spoiler alert: This story picks up towards the end of 'Tallahassee'; after Emma and Anton come to an accord and Emma returns to pull Hook from the wreckage of the fallen castle stones. By making a modification to the shackle she uses to bind Hook, I came up with my rewrite. Many events of 'Into The Deep' and 'Queen of Hearts' are closely parallel to canon, so please be patient with me until we get to the truly original stuff! Once Emma and Snow climb out of the wishing well, the rest of the story is all me. 
> 
> 'Canon' notes: As there was a nearly five week gap between episode 9 and 10, much of this was written in that time and I have actively contradicted quite a lot of canon in this tale because of that. Some obvious examples are as follows. The length of time it takes Cora and Hook to arrive in Storybrooke, takes days and not moments. The meeting with Neal goes wildly different. Rumpel's fate. What happens when Cora and Regina meet again. So stay open-minded!
> 
> Dedication: Ariestess of course! Because her evil brain helped me come up with this! And Caitrin, for sending me off to go look at pictures of Chris Hemsworth, who I didn't know from Adam at the time, and getting the straight-Regina muse all squidgy!

++ Emma ++

(11-1-12)

Groaning expressively, I feel consciousness swim woozily through my skull and flesh, which all ache abysmally. What the hell happened? The last thing I remember is negotiating my deal with the giant and rushing back to free Hook from the pile of rubble before I was gonna chain him in place so that I could get the hell out of here...

Something is wrong, seriously wrong. There are all sorts of body signals rushing in that are not mine. They are nothing like mine. After twenty-eight years in my nice, familiar body, I know what I should feel like.

This is not my body.

I don't know what the hell this is.

It's big, lumpy, uncomfortable and... well, cold. Some of the sensations are familiar, but just don't feel right. Blinking my eyes open, I’m confronted with a hazy, unfocused image that might be my arm, it's hard to tell.

What the hell?

Reaching towards my watering, inexplicably unfocused eyes, I yowl in pain as I rock my head back with a hard fist in the eye.

"Son of a...!"

Several things register at once, several impossible things. Rolling onto my back reveals that the bizarre body sensations are not my imagination. My voice is completely foreign and I am nearly stark naked.

Blinking wildly against the pain and tears, my contact lens falls out, causing familiar panic. I hate losing the damn things and how the hell am I going to see in this foreign place and...

Focus, Emma!

The hand cupped protectively near my face is not mine. God, I’m getting sick of that thought. It's a big, masculine appendage, attached to a thick, powerful forearm... and it's responding to my brain. 

Shrieking in alarm and shock, I scrabble backward, as though I can escape the impossible. Rugged stone rasps over my palms and ass and heels, crashing into my back as I reach an obstacle and stare in mindless horror at my body.

Thickly muscled and distinctly male, its both mine and completely alien. The utterly incongruous sight of that flaccid dick lolling out of my hot pink thong makes me half giggle in hysterical despair. What the hell has happened to me?

The left eye, free of my contact lens, is completely in focus, a sensation I haven't experienced since puberty. Warily, I reach up with one of the strange meathooks and rub at my right eye with the callused heel until the other lens starts to slip so I can blink it out. Yep, not imaging what I’ve been staring at, now in perfect 20/20 clarity.

Gingerly sitting up is finally too much for the strained thong. For a moment I can feel how painfully tight its pulled against my crotch and hips, and then the left side snaps loose. My clothing is lying with half the seams torn out in some perverse parody of those police chalk outlines of a murder victim like in those old movies.

Oh my fucking god, what weird shit has magic done now?

Jerking my eyes away from my new body, I see a hand peeking out from beneath the rubble that buried Hook. That is the last thing I remember before waking, reaching in to pull him out... Only now, peeking out from his black embroidered shirt, is a delicate and distinctly feminine hand.

That solidifies it. I am not imagining this. Carefully getting onto my hands and knees-- how the fuck am I supposed to control this gangly, massive body-- I creep over and grab for that small hand. As I did with my eye, I smash my fingertips into the floor by overreaching, and whimper in pain.

"Focus, Emma," I whisper in my strange new voice and reach out slowly until I can curl thick fingers around the small hand and pull carefully. It doesn't take much effort for the slender, female body to slide out of the hollow beneath the fallen roof pieces and I stare. Head lolled off to one side where I dropped her... him, whatever, she looks sweet and pretty and innocent. A long head full of lustrous dark hair makes me reach up, cracking myself in the head again, to feel that my own hair is short and thick, the rasp of stubble startling my skin as my fingers brush against my cheek.

It's like... we've kinda switched. Hook's still dark-haired but has close to my build and long locks. Grabbing the left arm confirms that the stump is still there, the wicked silver hook hanging loosely. I appear to be a bit bulkier and more muscular, but have short hair and a scruffy beard.

Moving cautiously, wary of damaging my hands any more, I grab the black leather pants that are a half million sizes too big on the transformed Hook. Wriggling around, I manage to shove my ungainly legs into them after peeling off the painfully tight socks, one of them splitting in a massive run that would make nylons cry. An effort to get into the tall, soft boots doesn't work and I leave my companion in the shirt and vest so each of us is only half naked. Then I doggedly go back to my original plan, grabbing the shackle to put it around Hook's small wrist, but pausing as I note a strange symbols etched into it. Could this be the cause of our genders being switched?

The last time I had this much damn trouble standing up, I must have been in diapers, or drunk out of my damn mind. Wavering like a sapling in a hurricane, I’m up for only a moment before collapsing in a heap.

"This bites."

After several falls, I manage to retrace my steps and grab Jack's sword, hoping I don't stab myself to death. I notice a pile of dusty scraps of fabric nearly as big as this new body and realize that I should cover up more than I am. So I haul my booty back to the pirate and painstakingly rip one of the rags to strips and tie the woman up before stuffing her back into the hollow beneath the stones. With effort, she'll be able to wiggle loose, once the shock wears off. The rest of rags I use to cover up my cold torso and wrap more of them around my waist, before doing the same with the golden chain and shackle that had been originally meant for Hook. Stashing the sword at the small of my back, I also grab the ripped remains of my brown leather jacket to fumble around until the compass falls out of the pocket. At least this hellish transformation won't be for nothing. Hanging the compass around my neck, I take one last glance at where Hook's body is hidden and stagger for the entry hole the giant uncovered for me earlier.

Some rational part of me knows I’m panicking, driven on by shock and pain.

That animal fear forces me down the damn beanstalk, every motion of this unfamiliar body threatening to make me fumble, and I can imagine my strange new body smashed to chunky salsa against the ground far, far below. Somehow, my slips never quite completely yank me away from the massive plant stalk, though there are some terrifyingly close calls that will probably give me nightmares. 

Yet despite everything, the ground is actually growing closer, a sign of hope that balances out the panic and exhaustion still dogging me after all these hours of climbing and everything that happened at the castle in the clouds. More than halfway down, another surge of fear blasts coldly through me as I remember my instructions to Mulan.

Ten hours.

If I didn't make it back in ten hours, she was to hack the beanstalk to the ground, my safety be damned. And some well-honed survival instinct in the back of my brain is screaming that I’m running out of time.

When the violent ripple of power races up the beanstalk, it's both a terror and a relief from the unknown. This is how it will end. Too far from the ground for my body to survive a fall with a plant as big around as a lighthouse and hundreds of feet tall.

Really, there are some days that I just miss my plain, pathetic life before Henry showed up on my doorstep. 

My body, still frighteningly clumsy, but doggedly clinging like a burr, is still moving. I'm driven on by the small figures of my companions below, the promise of solid ground and trees and safety. Well safety compared to what the hell I’m doing now.

Scrabbling, falling and catching a leaf bigger than my new torso, I rush as much as I can. Jamming my aching, half-frozen feet into every nook and cranny they feel out, grabbing at every handhold, moving with some lizard-brained instinct that I just let take over in hopes that maybe I might actually survive.

When the ground does finally drive the breath out of my oversized body, it is not with deadly force at all, though it does jar the hell out of me. Absolutely wasted from the physical and emotional effort, I can only pant and try to calm myself.

 

++ Mary Margaret ++

Foregoing my attempts to beat the daylights out of Mulan for threatening my child, I hear the noisy grunt of impact around the far curve of the beanstalk. In a heartbeat, my quarry is forgotten and I am up and moving, crying out Emma's name.

But the huddled figure is not my Emma, but a heavily muscled man I’ve never met before.

Whoever he is, he cringes away as though expecting violence and I’m completely at a loss. 

"Who the hell are you?"

Breathing heavily, he doesn't move for a moment before his head tilts up and I’m looking into a pair of wet, miserable eyes.

That are a mirror of my own.

Like some cheesy damsel in distress, my hand flies up to cover my gaping mouth and I actually step back. And narrowly miss impaling myself on Mulan's damn sword. Unsurprisingly, I can sense Aurora hanging back, her confusion clear. 

"I...," the strange man starts to say, the deep voice cracking alarmingly. "I touched something, me and Hook. And... and I woke up like this!"

He's wailing like a frightened child and, despite my shock, I cannot resist that primitive plea for aid. So I push down Mulan's threatening blade and make my way over the strange, handsome man... who is my daughter. He shies away like a terrified animal when I wrap gentle arms around his head, pressing the short nap of darkly gold hair to my shoulder. "Emma, Emma, it's going to be okay. I'm here. Shhhh..." 

One thick arm bashes me in the stomach, but I ignore the hit as it finally manages to snake around my waist in a suffocating grip. Emma is bawling, a complete loss of control I wouldn't even believed she is capable of.

But even the strongest and most reticent of personalities would be shattered by... this.

It takes a few minutes for Emma to calm before she... he jerks his head back and stares at me, owl-eyed. Despite the shock of this magical transformation, I find myself relived to see strong hints of James in the handsome face.

"You're not freaked out."

Smiling lovingly, I brush a hand over his forehead and soft bangs. "Oh, sure I am, but I would know your eyes anywhere. After all, I’ve been looking at them my whole life. You said you touched something?"

"Uh, yeah, yeah," Emma stammers, clearly trying to get her... his act together. "I think it was a gold shackle and chain I was going to use on Hook. I brought it with me, but no one else better touch it, in case I’m right."

A wide-eyed Mulan steps up beside me, pauses and then takes a half-step back. After giving herself a shake, she kneels by Emma's feet to peer at them. "You've cut yourself. Sit still."

 

++ Mulan ++

Whatever the truth is about what has happened to Emma Swan, it has no bearing on my treatment of the scraped and bloodied soles. Wounded feet can be a death sentence to a soldier who must walk and that cannot happen. We have too many things to accomplish in order to return our companions to the world from which they came. 

So, rather than stare and feel helpless and useless, I do what I do best and make myself useful.

"Aurora! Will you bring me the waterskin?" 

Shaking off her shock, she does as asked. I use a small piece of bandage to scrub off the bare feet before using a small amount of salve and wrapping them. 

"You will need some sort of shoes to protect your feet."

"Here," the strange, masculine voice says roughly and she... he clumsily unwinds a ragged bundle of leather from the mass of rags he wears. "Use this. It's useless to me now."

"Your jacket. But this is not unlike your armor. I can't. When you return to yourself, you can have the jacket repaired."

"Mulan," Emma sighs, and for a moment it's easier to see the strange and powerful person that I have been traveling with, despite this stunning transformation. "It's just a jacket. I only thought to grab it because I actually had the brain cells to remember this."

We all stare at the heavy gold compass that he lifts from where it hangs around his neck. "You found it," Snow White breathes in wonder and her smile is luminous. "I knew you would."

With my dagger, I measure the length of his feet and roughly hack out soles from the brown leather. "I need something for laces."

"I have something that might work," Aurora volunteers as I punch small slits around the mock sandals. A length of fancy silk cord glittering with silver thread dangles at my shoulder.

"Did you tell her to cut it down?"

This is a conversation that my charge and I should not be listening to, but retreat would call attention to us at this point. Snow hides her hurt in the lecturing tone and Emma squirms uncomfortably, making me grip his ankle so that I can finish with the sandal.

"Yes. I couldn't risk..."

"We go back together, that is the only way. Do you understand?"

Mother and child share a hug, with little hesitation over the stunning changes wrought on Emma.

"Yeah," he murmurs quietly and sits still while I finish with his feet and stand to offer a hand.

"Let's get you upright to check the efficiency of my work."

Neither of us is expecting the strength of the pull and I manage to not sprawl all over him, but not by much. The familiar eyes blink owlishly, but I regain my balance and hold up a hand to stop the apology.

"Don't pull, just keep your arm and torso muscles tense. Ready?"

This time he manages to help me lever him to clumsy feet, hissing with pain. I don't let go, letting him use my hand and shoulder for balance as he tries to adjust. I am reminded of learning to live in the weight of armor, how clumsy and heavy and awkward it made me feel. 

"Got it?" Snow asks gently as Emma's now large and very masculine body struggles to balance.

"For now."

"Good. Now, let's go get that dust from Cora."

"Yeah, and go home."

 

++ Emma ++

(11-2-12)

It felt like we'd walked forever and exhaustion was black around the edges of my vision by the time we finally stopped. At least the others allowed me to collapse in an uncomfortable pile to pass out, knowing I would be useless in helping with camp. I can barely coordinate this stupid body and even digging a latrine would be past my capabilities right now. My sleep is mostly dark, but plagued with visions of what may happen when others that know me see me like this. I'm tortured with fears of how I will survive this clumsiness and this quest we're all on.

I have never felt so fearful or useless in my life.

A poke in the shoulder pushes back the darkness and that strange, deep voice moans, my chest vibrating in sympathy, my uncomfortable new body aching and stiff.

Dammit. Not a bad dream then.

That insistent hand pushes at my shoulder, rolling my limp self over and I blearily blink my eyes open. Mulan almost smiles, her eyes as gentle as I’ve seen. "We do not wish to wake you, Emma, but we must press on."

Grunting and mumbling, I accept her helping hand again, sitting up and letting my blood flow remember where the hell it's supposed to go in this new body. Suddenly I get a nasty, sharp need from the vicinity of my bladder.

"Oh god," I groan harshly, really, really wanting for this to just not be happening. "Help me up, quick, or I swear I’m going to embarrass myself."

On unsteady feet, I hobble away from her, waving off a concerned Mary Margaret and nearly sagging against the nearest tree. 

When I woke to this incomprehensible change, this mundane need had never occurred to me, but there's no getting away from it now. With my forehead braced to the scratchy bark, I slowly move clumsy, shaking hands and yank open the laces on the front of the stolen leather pants. Blindly, I fish out that incongruous and painfully sensitive organ, emptying my aching bladder and groaning in painful relief. Frankly, I’m shocked I didn't wet myself. At least it's easier to clean up, though the idea of shaking the stupid thing makes me cringe. Getting everything respectable again is painful with my klutzy hands, but I manage to get laced up semi-decently before stepping away from the tree that braced me though the whole ordeal

"Thanks," I murmur and pat the bark before stepping around its bulk to face my companions again.

Without acknowledging what they may or may not have heard, they bustle about, a meat roll shoved into my hand as our few things are shouldered and we move out. Part of me wants to object to carrying nothing but my skin and sword. The rest of me is grateful for the break.

A long time passes in relative quiet, only Mary Margaret and Mulan speaking to compare notes on navigation. When we break for lunch, I collapse once again, barely rousing for water, a few cold veggies and a drumstick of something I can't even identify.

I'm never going to get used to this bizarre place...

"Emma?"

Aurora's hesitant voice rouses me from a light doze and I blink up at the girl. She still looks unnerved, not that I blame her, but is making a good effort to hide it. 

"What happened to Hook?"

Not the question I would have expected at all. The memory of the dark-haired woman left in that arrogant jerk's place fills my mind's eye and I have to hope that he... she got out safely. Haltingly, I retell what happened at the giant's castle, knowing all three of them are listening. Even once we get underway again, I continue to pour my guts out, until I’m too weary to speak and plod along in a numb haze.

Even Aurora waking from a nightmare late in the day as we break for the evening, babbling that she met Henry is some bizarre netherworld, barely cuts through my daze. Luckily, some part of me, not driven insane by this impossible change, remembers that I have a beat up picture of Henry in my jacket pocket. And, by some miracle, Mulan has kept the scraps.

"The boy you saw in your dream, is this him?"

"Yes, that's Henry."

"That's impossible. It was a dream." This is baffling and I just can't get my head around it. Weakly, I add, "How could you dream of my son?"

"I have no idea."

It's obvious that it kills Aurora to not be more of a help. I understand her feeling helpless; I understand it all too well.

"Maybe it wasn't a dream."

Okay that makes us all stop and collectively stare at Mary Margaret.

"What?"

Yes, that really is all I manage to stammer out.

She and Aurora talk about red rooms of flame, about sleeping curses, about a way home through a dream. Feeling sick at the thought of home, I want to just give up, make them leave me here, curled up on this floor of this damn impossible forest. My life as I once knew it is over, time and time again this has happened to me since Henry showed up on my doorstep. What will happen now? I am trapped in the body of stranger, clumsy enough to endanger my life, unrecognizable to the boy I’ve grown to love.

Sniffling miserably, I can't even find the strength to stir when heavy boots crunch close, leather armor creaks and the rustle of a cloak on the forest floor brushes my ears. "When I lost my homeland," Mulan speaks very, very softly, like the breeze high in the trees. "I too wanted to give up. However, I found that there is always something to live for, Emma Swan. Come, let us help you find a new task. Take my hand."

And, with no strength of my own, I can only rely on hers.

 

++ Mulan ++

I do not like the risks that Aurora is taking for these strangers, but I do understand it. In honor of my vow to Prince Phillip, I have attempted to talk her out of it, but she is stronger than she seems and is adamant about her choice. I will respect that and help as best I am able.

At the moment she is sleeping, keeping her vow to speak with Henry in the netherworld. Snow fusses over her transformed daughter, who looks like he would bolt if he could. That is a situation that will require a light hand, a blade of grass in a breeze, not a great tree in a typhoon. 

As though the universe has heard my thoughts, bodies suddenly burst from the undergrowth, stinking of death. The horde is sticky with putrid blood, skin rotting away and gaping wounds where hearts should be. I think they may have been the other survivors from the camp, but they are monsters now. They will not take us, not while I have breath to fight. Roughly, I shake Aurora, for as always, she is my top priority. 

Thankfully, she finally begins to rouse, even as I bash away one of the lumbering undead.

"Henry wasn't finished!"

"The time for that is over."

Driven by my need to protect this nearly helpless woman, I grab her, fight my way through the shambling horde, and leave the strangers behind. Even as she objects, voice shrill and angry, I push her hard, crowd her body with mine; all the while hacking at the walking corpses with the gaping, stinking holes where their hearts should be.

People I once knew that Cora has killed mercilessly.

And somehow she has given them some sort of false life and set them upon us. Later, when we are away from this, I will be very, very disturbed.

Were there so many of us, adrift in the empty world that was once home to so many more? They keep coming, challenging my strength, my skill, my determination. But, at long last, I begin to best them...

Only to find that I have failed anyway.

Panicked, I search in vain, finally brought up short by Snow's arrow, aimed between my eyes.

"They took her. Aurora's gone."

 

++ Emma ++

Battered and sore and shocked as hell to be alive, I stumble after Mary Margaret and Mulan, tripping and somehow managing to pick myself up over and over again to continue on. I have never hurt like this, an all over body soreness that has reduced me to little more than an animal, trying to survive.

Some giant black bird had swooped out of nowhere earlier to land on a completely calm Mary Margaret's shoulder to deliver a message. Well, if I needed proof that she really is Snow White, I guess talking to birds would do it. Cora has Aurora and it hasn't been easy to keep Mulan from away from the compass still slung around my torso.

We have one last shot. The sleeping potion that Mulan gave me to knock out the giant is made from some sort of poppy. We're crashing through the forest like women... people possessed, driven by desperation and fear for our loved ones.

Everything is fuzzy, my ears, my lungs, my eyes. At this point I have no idea if that's just my condition or my fixed eyes were some sort of brief fluke. Maybe this... thing is wearing off?

Mulan is saying something about dead woods and poppies, forcing me to focus. That makes me notice that Mary Margaret looks agitated.

"You okay?

"Yeah, I’m fine."

Without thinking, I grab her arm-- too hard of course-- and jerk her to a halt. "Hey, wait. Wait. No, you look nervous. This netherworld... how bad is it? What's it like?"

She clearly doesn't want to answer, eyes shifty, but sighs and gives in, pulling at me to keep moving. "It's like you're, umm... lost, drifting in the dark. No one to talk to, nothing to do except think of all the people that you love, and how you'll never see them again."

"Henry was lost in that dark too, because of me." My anguish runs deep, this failure to the son I’ve grown to love. Mary Margaret pauses again to peer at me curiously.

"What are you talking about?"

"He tried so hard to convince me I was the savior."

"Stop it," she tells me, clearly exasperated. This is a side to my former roommate I haven't really seen before. "Stop it. No one would've believed Henry's stories."

"But his mother..." I choke on the word, "should have."

 

++ Mary Margaret ++

It's time for me to step up and reassure this adult child of mine. Somewhat roughly, I shake a heavy shoulder to refocus her... his wandering attention. "Okay, you want to play the blame game? If I hadn't told Cora about Regina's true love, Cora never would have killed him. Regina wouldn't want revenge. The curse never would have happened. We could spend all day trying to figure out why each of us should feel guilty, but it won't help us get home."

Those big, wet puppy eyes should be outlawed, they're nearly irresistible. "You really think we're going to make it back?"

Adoring this person, no matter what form he may have, I curl a hand over his shoulder and smile. "If there's one thing your father's taught me, it's not to give up. Now, it's time to go back to sleep."

Emma is still conflicted, but follows me anyway as we hustle to catch up with Mulan. She has thankfully found the flower, a beautiful scarlet gem in this dense forest.

"It's beautiful."

Ignoring my admiration, Mulan cuts the delicate bloom and busies herself over it. Somehow, the loss of the rare flower hurts and I don't quite understand why.

"I'll use my dagger to crush the seeds," Mulan explains even as she goes about the task. "We're doing this the old-fashioned way."

Paralyzed with nerves, I find a cushioned spot at the base of an enormous tree and settle down. My fear is sharp and memories of that hellish place make it difficult to not broadcast to a clearly worried Emma. She... he, is still plenty astute, despite his own trauma. 

"The powder's nearly ready," Mulan volunteers as though reading my thoughts and I try to be analytical about this.

"How long will the effects last?"

"It's difficult to say. Maybe an hour, or much less."

"Well, I shouldn't need much time. As long Henry's in there when I am."

Carefully folding himself up, Emma scoots close enough to take one of my small hands in his. "I'll be right here. Say hi to my son for me."

I want to say something to be reassuring, or to be reassured myself, but there are no words forthcoming. The hazel green eyes, dark with worry and vulnerability are the last thing I see as Mulan blows the dust at me and darkness closes in.


	2. Harsh Confrontations

++ Emma ++

Coming awake, I find myself looking into a bleary pair of eyes that match my own. "Hey."

Mary Margaret nearly knees me in the face as she suddenly scrambles to her feet, frantically looking for something. 

"Hey, you okay? What... what happened? What are you doing?"

"I'm looking for more powder!"

"Well, I’m pretty sure we're all out of that. What happened?"

I'm getting a little freaked out as she pretty much comes completely undone, sobbing with stress as she clings to the stone Mulan used as a mortar, babbling about it had been David, not Henry in there and he's trapped now.

It's making my head spin, but I'm seized with the need to fix this as best I can, to calm the frenzied panic in this friend who is now so much more. 

My grabbing Mary Margaret's hands focuses her and her voice trails off. "We have to get back. If we don't..."

"We will. We will."

"Now you're so sure?"

I'm now sure of myself, and it's a welcome sensation after all these insane changes I’ve been through. I broadcast that sincerity to her. 

"Yes. You told me to have faith and now I’m telling you; we will make it back. Okay?" She nods jerkily, but the panic is fading from her eyes. "Did you get the information?"

"It's Rumpelstiltskin. He said the key to stopping her in his jail cell."

"Okay. Then let's go get it."

Nodding jerkily, she gets up and we start gathering our few things. It takes a moment for something to register, a loss of the familiar, hard to place for a long moment. So much is unfamiliar now, that the missing weight pressed to my ribs on the right side is almost overlooked. Frantic, I jerk at the rags wound around me as a shirt and cast my gaze around the forest floor.

"No..."

"What?" Mary Margaret is freaked out all over again. I can sympathize.

"The compass is gone. And so is Mulan."

 

++ Mary Margaret ++

When we catch up to Mulan, a miracle really considering Emma's condition, I really do want to hurt her. To put one of my arrows through her heart or eye, still smarting and panicked from what I’ve learned, what I’ve been through. When the stoic woman goads me, I think I just might have to do it, press that arrowhead home where I have it pressed to her throat like a dagger.

Aurora’s voice shocks the hell out of all three of us. 

"Stop!"

"Okay, don't take the the wrong way, but how the hell did you get here?"

I'm with Emma on this one. Imperiously, Aurora sweeps down the trail, ordering me to let Mulan go. Too startled to argue, I leap back and stare.

"Were you followed?" Mulan asks and Aurora, clearly a little shaken herself, shakes her head.

"I don't think so."

When she tells us it was Hook that freed her, I’m not the only one that just about laughs in her face. But I suppose that his wanting to prove something to Emma has some merit. He... now she, certainly was flirtatious enough, and she's the naive sort to believe in love curing all.

Like I was once.

Squirreling away speculation about Hook and his... her motivations, we're off again on our hunt, crashing through the forest like those zombies are still after us.

(11-3-12)

Oh, how I want to explore the familiar lines of the castle, the corridors and rooms that I remember so well. But there's no time and we hustle for the dungeon, pausing only long enough to light torches and lanterns in the forbidding space. Even here has strong nostalgia and I find myself hanging back, Emma unconsciously doing the same.

"Rumpelstiltskin’s cell. I haven’t been here since before Regina's curse. This is where he told us you were going to be the savior."

Stumbling, bracing himself on the rough hewn wall, Emma eyes me. "He knew?"

"It was prophesied."

I can't help but feel as though I’m missing an important clue that has nothing to do with the missing vial of squid ink. When a clearly disturbed Aurora hands over the tattered bit of parchment, I feel the creeping dread that slackens my child's face.

Emma. The name is written again and again and again, filling the entire scroll.

All I can remember is my bargain. His information for my unborn child's name, which he then immortalized with his usual sly madness.

The chill I feel is more soul than body.

 

++ Emma ++

As though I needed more proof that my role in this madness was preordained, the insanity of the neatly inked letters of my name, over and over again, is very convincing. What kind of madman is Rumpelstiltskin really? Snippets of Henry's book come back to me, fragments of tales, threads of story and connections I haven't quite pieced together yet.

I should help the others as they continue to frantically search, but I’m still caught up in the clues just out of my reach.

Then Mulan finds the empty inkpot and my despair is as sharp as Mary Margaret's voice. Will anything finally go our way? Shaken again, I rub at my too-short hair, cringing at the rasp of beard that reminds me of just how much my reality has been altered. For a moment I’m overwhelmed again, just wanting to crawl off in a corner and jibber like a loony for a few minutes. Maybe it will make me feel better.

Doubt it.

The numbness has sunk in so far that I barely react to Aurora's suddenly throwing a stone and the cell door crashing down to trap us. I've been through too many shocks with too little time to acclimate and my resiliency is thin. 

"Excellently done, dear."

That dreaded voice stills Mulan and Mary Margaret's alarm and cuts through my haze. Sure as shit, it's Cora, striding down the stone tunnel like some goddamn queen. Even as I do my damnedest to struggle to clumsy, hurting feet, my body is yanked forward like a puppet and slams brutally into the bars. The chain around my torso tightens and then slithers away, my damn body too slow and too uncoordinated to grab back what is mine.

"No!"

But it's too late, the coveted compass is in her grasp and her smile arctic and triumphant. 

"No, don't waste your energy, dear. Rumpelstiltskin himself couldn't escape from this cell. Thank you, Aurora. We couldn't have done it without you."

The girl backs away defensively, her face a riot of defiance and terror. 

"Why?" is all I can whisper, far too close to broken.

"Don't blame her. She was only doing what she was told."

I have never seen a magically removed heart, the aurora borealis of reds rippling through the glass-like object, but I know exactly what it is.

"You took her heart?" I squeak, still pressed to the bars and wishing I could reach the monster's throat.

A second figure steps from the shadows and I can only stare. "Actually, I did. It was a gift."

Hook does indeed make a very pretty woman and has a glare that could nearly set a person on fire. I know, because it's leveled at me right now. As much as he... she would like to hide it, she's at least as fascinated by me. In that brief instant, I see that she had been blaming me for the change wrought on her. My own transformation is a real shock, leaving her shaken.

Aurora's guttural cry of pain breaks the staring contest, Cora's hand flexing harshly around the trapped heart. Her smile is truly chilling. "Forgive us. We'd love to stay, but Storybrooke awaits."

"Hook! Wait! Please don't do this. My son is in Storybrooke. He needs me."

It's hopeless and I know it, as the conflict in her eyes hardens and I rattle the bars with my useless new strength. 

"Perhaps you should have considered that, before you abandoned me on that beanstalk."

"You would have done the same."

My grousing, sullen statement almost makes her look pitying. 

"Actually, no." Pressing the advantage, she steps forward, bringing up a small, dark object. "Do you know what this is, Emma?"

It's the dried, desiccated bean the giant wore around his neck and I say as much.

"Indeed. A pirate always keeps a souvenir of his conquests, but this... Well, this is much more than a mere trinket. This is a symbol. Something that was once magical, full of hope, possibility. Now look at it. Dried up, dead, useless. Much like you. It will also remind me that I will find a solution to this unfortunate transformation, while you will die here like a trapped rat. The time for making deals is done, just as I'm done with you."

 

++ Mary Margaret ++

Emma is actually growling, the low, grunting of an angry, trapped animal as he strains at the bars, reaching futilely at our tormenters. With a last hateful glare, the pretty, dark-haired woman that is Captain Hook strides out after Cora to destroy all that I hold dear.

It makes me almost nostalgic Regina's straightforward resentful hatred.

As much as I want to help Emma right now, she... he would probably try to rip my head off. And poor Aurora is shaken, right down to her soul.

I can't even imagine what she must be feeling. Or can someone who's had their heart torn out even feel anymore?

"This is all my fault," she sobs softly while Mulan stands by helplessly, completely at a loss of what to do.

"Some savior I am," Emma growls. "Not doing much saving, am I?"

The rattling clang of one big fist against the bars sounds painful and makes me wince in sympathy. Gingerly, almost warily, I approach but stay just out of arm's reach. 

"Emma, we're going to win this fight, you know. Good always defeats evil."

That harsh, ugly sound almost breaks my heart. "You sound like Henry."

"I guess optimism runs in the family."

"It must have skipped a generation."

"You should know better than anybody. You broke the curse."

Whipping around with sudden violence, Emma nearly screams in my face, his eyes wild. "What the hell have I done since? I got us stranded, burned down the wardrobe, let Cora get the ashes, then the compass, got myself trapped in this fucking body and made an enemy of the one man... woman, who might have helped us."

I'm frozen by the pain and vitriol spewing my way, just as much as the thick rivulet of blood oozing down his face from a rough gouge in his forehead. Deflating suddenly, Emma crumples as though too weak to hold himself up for one more moment. When he speaks again, his voice is defeated, almost lifeless.

"The only reason I ever broke the curse was because it was exactly what Gold wanted me to do."

"What are you talking about?"

My voice is a whisper and the defeated eyes are too heavy a burden for my soul to bear.

"He told you I was the savior. It was his plan. Once I fulfilled that role, maybe that's all I was ever meant to do. Everything I've ever done, he had it all mapped out before I was even born. He probably even manipulated Regina into casting the damn curse. I'm not powerful, I'm no savior. I'm a name on a piece of paper, a pawn. And that's exactly why we're in here and Cora's on her way to Storybrooke."

 

++ Emma ++

(11-4-12)

Voices blearily cut through the thick blanket of darkness that has silenced my torment for awhile. Selfishly, I want to go back, to avoid the insanity my life has become for just a little bit longer.

"The scroll is not going to magically open the door for us."

Mulan's heavy sarcasm actually makes me grin faintly and blink my eyes open. Mary Margaret is getting excited about something, a smile warming her face. 

"Yes it is." 

Our collective confusion and skepticism makes her rush to explain. "When I was a little girl, I used to sneak into Cora's chamber and watch her practice magic. She had a spell book." 

Noticing that I’m awake, she moves to crouch beside me and brush a gentle hand over my aching forehead. 

"Emma, the spells were in the book."

"Yeah," my voice sounds like I’ve gargled with gravel. "Isn't that was a spell book is? A book that has spells in it?"

Offering a hand to help me sit up, Mary Margaret shakes her head, too excited to respond to my sarcasm. Then she stands and faces the bars and gives me a mischievous grin that has me really curious, despite myself.

"Watch."

Raising the tattered scroll bearing the endless refrain of my name, she blows over the surface and to my utter astonishment-- one of these days I'll get used to this shit-- the words lift off the paper in a thin cloud of ink.

"Whoa! Squid ink." 

Scrambling to my feet, I grab Mary Margaret in an awkward hug, careful to not touch the slow moving cloud. 

"Gold wrote the scroll in squid ink!"

When the floating ink touches the bars, they simply vanish, leaving a large, round hole. Finally, maybe I can feel hope again.

"Told you," Mary Margaret says with a deep conviction that might be arrogant on someone else. "Good always wins."

As we rush to get the hell out of Dodge, Aurora wisely points out that she has to stay behind. I've grown to like her and leaving her here, tied up for everyone's safety, is not an easy decision. But there's no other choice and Mulan knows it. So she ties the younger woman up, vowing to return with her heart. It's really actually very sweet and I’m glad neither will be alone once we go home.

Guess that optimism runs in the family after all. 

 

++ Mary Margaret ++

Driven by desperation, we crash through the forest and emerge onto the dry lake bed. No! Cora and Hook are side by side at the mouth of a whirlpool that churns away hungrily, their hands on the compass.

Only moments to act, only time for a single, perfectly aimed arrow.

When I get back to Storybrooke, I really have to remember to thank Red once again for teaching me so well all those years ago. Cora and Hook are startled when the compass goes flying into the sand.

"You're not going anywhere!" I shout, shaking with anger and worry. "This portal's taking us home." Shoving Emma, I bark, "The compass, get it!"

And the battle is joined. Fireballs fly from Cora's hands, miraculously deflected by Mulan's sword, while Emma lumbers at Hook with murder in his eyes. That confrontation would almost be funny were it not so deadly, neither of them in real control of their changed bodies. A clumsy slash from Hook draws a line of blood and my arrow misses as they dance apart. A second shot misses Cora as she vanishes in a pillar of purple smoke.

I'm sure mine isn't the only panic as something whirls away from the smoke, the leather satchel with its long carrying strap fluttering.

Aurora's heart!

Astonishingly, it's Hook that twists athletically and manages to reach out with that single, wicked claw. The strap bounces off her wrist as Hook unbalances over the whirlpool, her face panicked. Then Emma comes to the rescue, grabbing the oversized jerkin and yanking the woman back to dry land.

"Oh no you don't!"

With a sardonic grin, Hook half tosses and half rolls the bag at Mulan. I'm quite certain her look of surprise is echoed on my own face.

"I may be a pirate, but I bristle at the thought of a woman losing her heart." That wicked grin is actually more appealing on the strong, pretty face. "Unless it's over me."

Rushing over, I yell at Mulan. "Go!"

"But you need the compass!"

"And Aurora needs her heart."

Later, when I have time to process, I will be warmed by Mulan's hesitation. For now, I'm shocked when she offers me her precious sword. "Take it. It deflects her magic."

And just like that, with this miraculous gift, she is gone.

 

++ Emma ++

Growling with annoyance and animalistic stress, I yank out Jack's sword, needing to keep this enemy from slicing me again. The shallow cut on my upper arm burns like a bitch, but I barely notice. We circle around, sparring clumsily, probably as big a danger to ourselves as one another.

"I had no idea you had such a soft side," I jeer and she shrugs nonchalantly.

"I don't. I just like a fair fight."

Around and around we go, in a deadly dance I’m just no damn good at.

"Good form," she jeers, ducking and using her smaller weight to ram me, sending me sprawling. "But not good enough."

The bigger they are, the harder they fall seems to hold true here and I wheeze from the impact. In the corner of my eye, because I don't dare take my attention off Hook, I see Cora, dark cloak fluttering, and I worry for both myself and Mary Margaret.

This can't possibly be how our story ends.

Hook has managed to pin my sword, her smaller weight atop me, the pale blue eyes glittering in triumph. "In different circumstances, pretty boy, this could be fun, but you can't beat me. You should quit while you're still alive."

Then I feel a familiar geometric shape pressed into my ribs and hope blasts through me again.

"Why would I do that when I’m winning?"

Clumsily fishing out the compass from beneath me makes the blue eyes flicker and I lash out as hard as I can. The impact is stunning, the weight of the compass clenched in my fist helping rock Hook's head back on her shoulders. Ignoring the wail of pain from my hand, I scramble to my feet, raging with adrenaline and ready to take on Regina's crazed mother.

"Now let's go home!"

My lunge comes to nothing as Cora vanishes again, but I actually kind of expected it and roughly shove Mary Margaret towards the whirlpool.

Cora's too quick, reappearing to throw us back with a gesture. Angry, deeply angry all the way down into the most primitive, animal, lizard-like parts of my brain, I am ready to protect my family, even if it endangers me. I try to get up as Mary Margaret surges to her feet, but Cora slams me again, and I can feel that I’m running out of energy and time.

How can we hope to win?

 

++ Mary Margaret ++

Terrified for both myself and Emma, panic claws at me, and Cora looms close like a snake ready to strike. I'm out of ideas, out of maneuvering room, out of time.

"Why do you want to go to Storybrooke?"

It's a desperate question, more of a stall tactic than real curiosity. The unearthly, chilling calm in Cora's eyes scares me like little else has in a very, very long time. Even Regina's eyes were never this cold...

"Because my daughter needs me."

She really believes that. This insane woman has no idea of the destruction her madness has wrought, what it did to Regina, who turned all of that twisted pain on me and so many others. For the first time I think I really have a clear peephole to the insanity that led us here.

"And now, I’m going to give her the one thing she's always wanted."

No, no, no!

"Your heart."

I freeze in animal, instinctual fear, knowing what's coming and at a complete loss of what to do to save myself. Poor Charming, lost forever to a sleeping curse because I couldn't save myself and return to him. Poor Emma, separated forever from Henry.

I failed.

"Goodbye, Snow."

With a bellow of pure rage, Emma is suddenly up, knocking me aside. Horrified, I look up from the ground to witness the sickening sight of Cora's hand, buried in my daughter's chest past the wrist, aglow with magic.

"Oh, you foolish child," Cora laughs like a blade against bone. "Don't you know? Love is weakness."

But the rules have shifted again, as Cora's yank only makes Emma's big, transformed body shake, his face slack in shock for a moment. Then, his face changes with the realization of something big... and powerful.

"No," he rumbles with a deep conviction and Cora looks shocked and almost frightened. "It's strength."

With a blast of pure white energy, Cora is tossed away like a rag doll, vanishing once more into purple smoke. Scrambling to my feet, I touch the spot her hand had been, sensing Emma's warmth through the rags, and I swear I can almost feel that sweet, strong heart.

"What was that?" He squeaks in shock and I cup his cheek in my hand, willing my adoration and pride into calming him.

"That is a great subject for discussion. When we get home!"

We're driven now, victory so close we can taste it, and rush for the whirlpool, still churning patiently away. 

"Ready?"

There is still conflict in the eyes we share and there will be no easy answers. But they are certainly not here and he brings up the compass so that we can trap it between our hands.

"Yeah, let's go."

And we jump.


	3. Wishing Well

++ Regina ++

It was the desperate plea to have faith in him that did me in. Since the moment I realized that I could lose him forever, Henry is all that has mattered to me. For him, I have given up everything that has defined me for so long.

Even him.

The deadly barrier spell arcs through me, acid green lightning burning in the violently expanding pyroclastic cloud of my internal magics. The pain is an excruciating burn that must be akin to grabbing a high voltage power line. I would scream if I could.

Is this how it will end? The cold dirt shoveled over my deep darkness? Will anyone mourn me?

With a wrenching blast of power, I am tossed away like a leaf in a storm; dazed and suffused with magics that actively hurt. Fairy magic and the dark forces that power me are not meant to mix. Breathing heavily, my trembling hands levering my heavy body up, I focus my will like the tool it has always been.

Breathing deeply, striving to calm the internal storm, I can only tremble there, on the forest floor. The whirling violet clouds of power have been the only soul and heart I have acknowledged in so long. This raging influx of electric pain has thrown them into sharp relief, broiling lightning amidst the whirlwind. Slowly, the storm quiets, the lightning swallowed by the maelstrom that so often feels like the only heart I have left.

Shaking it off, like one would do from a blow to the head, I finally look up, hoping that my effort has not been in vain. But immediately, my heart reminds me that it still lives, as it lurches in pain at the expression on my son's face.

"No!" he cries, devastated that his hero has not come back. Even that bastard Rumpelstiltskin looks perturbed. 

"I'm sorry, Henry," I whisper in a voice like ground glass. "I'm sorry."

And then, miracle of miracles...

There is a scrabbling hand at the lip of the wishing well.

 

++ Emma ++

This is what I’ve been dreading with every fiber of my being.

But, despite my very real misgivings, I climb with all my strength. Because that's what I’m meant to do.

Survive.

Bracing my hands and feet on the inside of the vertical tunnel we've magically appeared in, I chance a glance down at Mary Margaret, who is hanging from my waist. The swirling purple whirlpool is vertigo inducing, but I swallow my stomach down and call out, "Keep your grip so I can pull us up! Who knows what's at the end of this thing. Just don't touch that damn chain."

Huffing dryly at my dark humor, she does as I demand with the strength and determination I’ve grown to admire in this friend, now mother and protector. Grunting with effort, I focus pure physical effort to drag our combined weight to where I can lash out and hook a hand over the stone lip. Both of us crash painfully to the side of what can only be the damn wishing well, but we hang on.

"You can do it, Emma," Mary Margaret encourages with that sweet smile and I really put my back into it.

When my eyes meet Henry's, the reality of this reunion is so much worse than my imagination could conjure up.

Though, when I have time to process it later, Gold's expression will be frickin' hilarious.

Henry stares in horror as my body continues to strain with effort until I can get my elbows on the lip of the well.

"Wha... what... who are you?"

Yep, now it's real, all the expected fear and disbelief. Every scenario I've tried to run through my head goes flying out the proverbial window.

"It's me," I yell, noticing Gold's threat posture. "Emma. I had a... run in... With magic."

Even as I slip a bit, causing Mary Margaret to swallow a cry of alarm, I see Ruby stirring on the ground not far away and Regina half crumpled at the foot of a nearby tree. Her shocked expression is almost as comical as Gold's.

"I have Mary Margaret with me."

With a powerful heave, I get a better grip on the edge of the well and brace my feet to push my torso half out. Mostly counterbalanced now, though the stones are digging into my gut, I move a hand to reach for Mary Margaret. When her grip is secure, I hook my hand under her thigh to heave her out before slithering out and crashing onto the brick dais in an undignified heap.

I'm so glad to see Henry that my eyes are full of tears, one hand reaching helplessly for him. His recoiling from my impossibly strange appearance, though expected, doesn't lessen the pain.

Welcome home indeed.

 

++ Regina ++

I have never witnessed such a thing. It must be some sort of illusion, though well-honed instincts on all things magical tell me that it's not.

"What's going on? What happened?"

Ah yes, with the return of the savior, so too my old enemy. The fiery hate feels hollow and almost soggy somehow, too difficult to keep the flames lit.

"She saved you," Henry whispers as though unaware he's even spoken. The words might be complimentary, but the way they are said, as though I’m not even here-- or worse, not important-- are like a knife to the heart. "She saved both of you."

I have been demoted even further away from mother, of no more use now but to be a magical battery to save his hero. Will this torture never end?

Snow is torn between the impossibly altered savior and her Prince Charming, who is still in town, trapped in his sleeping curse. I'm too weary and raw to do more than numbly note the drama as she goes to Henry. He startles as though electrified when she touches him. "Henry, sweetie, everything is going to be fine. Take me to where David is, okay?"

Ruby is up finally, hugging her old friend and they coax Henry away. His eyes are traumatized and confused, but he places his trust in them.

Not a glance is spared for me.

That will never stop hurting.

Struggling to my feet with a shaking hand on the bark of the tree, I desperately search for something to help me calm and focus. All I see is Emma Swan still crumpled at the foot of the wishing well, staring after Henry with a forlorn expression that surely must mirror my own. There is a perverse irony that she... he will have to do for now. Because we are all that is left amid the sentinel trees.

 

++ Emma ++

"Is this how you felt?" My whispered question feels like rough grit sandpaper in my throat. "All those times he just... walked away? God, Regina, I’m so sorry for that."

Blind with tears, I stay where I fell, back pressed to the cold stone and grind my dirty palms into my eye sockets. After a long minute, some semblance of resigned calm settles and I look up to see that only Regina remains.

"Um, your mom… She’s, uh… She’s… a piece of work, you know?"

Something broken and humorless dances in Regina's faint smirk as she wraps her arms around herself like armor. "Indeed I do."

The dark eyes stare openly at me, her expression vacillating from almost horrified fascination to apologetic. I don't have the will or energy to take offense either way. Better get used to it, right?

"Did... did she do this?" Regina asks hesitantly and it takes me a moment to figure out what she means.

Of all the questions regarding my new 'look', that one hadn't actually occurred to me and I huff humorlessly. "No, but it's sort of a perversely amusing thought, huh? No, me and goddamn, freaking Captain Hook climbed a beanstalk to confront a damn giant, touched some doohickey and got whammied."

There's no mistaking the flicker of surprised recognition at the mention of Hook, and shock about the giant.

"You look like hell."

At the flat, oddly welcome statement, I can't help the helpless and painfully hysterical laughter that boils up from my cavernous chest. It rushes through me, becoming a harsh sob and I rub my eyes once more before looking at myself. I'm dressed in rags and an enemy's leather pants, while trapped in this foreign, male body. Yeah I bet I look like hell. The filthy beard scratching at my fingers and palms as I run them over my face is stark reminder.

"Yeah, I bet I do at that. Could I hitch a ride into town? I'm tired of walking around like a caveman."

Startled again, she nods and turns away. Weary in body and soul, I silently follow, trusting her to lead me through the trees. Yes, I know this is Regina, but right now, she is the only familiar link to my shattered life to cling to.

 

++ Regina ++

Like some sort of shambling undead thing, the big man that has replaced my latest nemesis follows me to the car. I cannot stop my eyes from glancing back to marvel in fascinated disbelief. The tattered and decaying rags wrapping the muscular torso are a mess with gore and filth staining them. There is dried blood on the bearded face, flaking away from exertion, and fresh blood high on his left arm. The strong hands are battered raw and bruised, his feet wrapped in ragged cloth and leather scraps.

All in all, she... he, is a mess.

At the car, I hold open the door and wince in some sympathy as he folds his large body in and smacks his head into the car's frame, hard enough that it rocks the sedan. He barely seems to notice, despite the many bruises on his face.

He stinks, reeking of old sweat, fear and putrid death. It's nauseating, and strangely grounding, the very mundane bodily reactions to the smells reassuring me that this is indeed real.

Why am I even helping?

It always comes back to Henry. He will want this person safe, despite his horrified shock at the wishing well. His heart has been too set on Emma for too long. He's stubborn like that.

With the heater on full blast and the windows open a bit, I make it back to town with my sanity and stomach intact.

"Out," I order brusquely, wanting to be rid of this stranger who is no stranger.

Yet, he is so pitiful that even my heart of smoke cannot just throw him away like garbage. I know how that feels and cannot find it in me any longer to pass that on to the next soul.

Once again, he batters himself against the car and the door, seeming not to notice in the slightest, despite the faint winces.

Then the happy crowd pours out of Gold's shop and I cannot help but shy away. And yet... I find myself remaining at Emma Swan's side.

 

++ Emma ++

And here it is: the chorus of shocked and horrified stares that I’ve so been looking forward to. I don't even notice that I’ve started inching behind Regina like a chickenshit until she steps away and stares at me in disbelief. Not like everyone else's 'what the hell happened to you', but a nice normal 'what the hell do you think you are doing?'.

"Oh my," David finally says inanely and I think I can actually hear Regina roll her eyes.

"Magical doohicky," she drawls with heavy sarcasm on that last word. "In the giant's castle or so... he tells me. Apparently the infamous Captain Hook was the other recipient of whatever this is."

More startled looks pass over the group and I really want to sink into the cement. When a hand comes to rest on my wrist, I startle and find myself looking into David's soft gaze. Even more shocking is when he grasps my chin to turn my head and look at my profile. "Well the genes certainly run true. I think you're even better looking than me."

The ripple of startled amusement that moves through the group is like a balm on my soul and tears well up again. 

"I swear," I choke on the words for a moment, but force myself to breathe them out. "If you make a crack about always wanting a son, I will punch you."

Chuckling, David pulls me into a gentle hug, before swatting me hard on the back. "Let's get you cleaned up and into some clothes before the whole town descends."

"I'll start explaining," Mary Margaret says quickly, stepping out of the knot of dwarves, grandson, and werewolf to take my hand for a moment. She's really been my strength since this happened and I find myself in a childish near-panic at the idea of being separated from her after so long. Watching my... parents kiss soothes my frayed emotions somehow, even if I’m distracted at the chorus of stares from behind them.

"Come on then," David enthuses, but I pause and find myself staring at a clearly uncomfortable Regina.

"Thank you. For your help."

Her shock is nearly palpable, widening her striking eyes and rippling through the little crowd. It only deepens when I find myself reaching out to carefully set a hand on her crossed arms, feeling the brush of her shirt on my clumsy fingertips.

"Will you be okay?"

She can only stare at me as though she's never seen me before, and I realize that it has nothing to do with my new appearance. It's because I’m being kind and, for the first time, I really feel for her. Having spent a bit of time in the presence of her evil loony of a mother, I understand now how she's come to be on the path she's walked for so long.

Some of that is reflected in my son's eyes. I think maybe we can understand this woman we're both bound to, whether we like it or not.

Just as the moment starts to grow uncomfortable, Regina finally gives me a slight nod, her expression unreadable, before she hurries away.

 

++ Gold ++

I have seen much in my life; witnessed many things both mundane and magical. But this sort of transformation is new to me. If I hadn't seen him crawl from the well with my own eyes, reinforced by overhearing Snow White hurriedly telling the others about this, I would have thought this was some homeless man mistakenly wandering into my shop.

"Sheriff Swan. I believe I owe you an apology for the booby trap at the well. It turns out your boy is far wiser than we gave him credit for."

Clearly taken aback by my calm statement, she... he pauses, shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot. 

"No, I understand why you wanted to keep Cora out of here."

"Just remind me never to bet against you in the future."

"It's not really a bet when the game is rigged, is it?"

I do love an audacious opponent, the thrill of someone who does not cower in fear automatically. It makes their eventually defeat all the sweeter. 

"To what exactly are you referring?"

"Your scroll. I saw it in your cell. You wrote my name again and again and again."

She... he is very intelligent, but has no concept of long-term plans. How could he? That is a skill that requires the maturity and roots he has never before needed. 

"Just wanted to make sure it would stick."

"The ink, it was there all the time. You could've gotten out."

This is where the game gets dicey. Lying can come back to haunt me, it's happened before. So, the best moves contain enough truth to make the lies ring true. 

"I was exactly where I needed to be. You needed to find that, so all this could occur."

He doesn't like that, the green eyes narrowing and nostrils flaring. 

"You created the curse, Gold. You made me the savior. So everything I’ve ever done... it's exactly what you wanted me to do."

Not entirely the truth, that, but she... he's very close to the mark. So I once more dole out a careful dose of abbreviated truth. 

"I created the curse, dearie, but I didn't make you. I merely took advantage of what you are; the product of true love. That's why you're powerful. And everything you've done, you've done yourself."

His expression has changed, thoughtful and cagey. I don't like surprises and I know that I’m in for one right now.

"So you don't know."

It takes a real effort of will to not snap at him. "Know what?"

"Cora tried to rip my heart out, but she couldn't. She was blasted back by something inside me. By... by..."

Poor, confused lad can't even say it, so I do. "… by magic. Whatever that was, I didn't do that. You did."

Yes, I can make use of this little tidbit of information in the future, of that I have no doubt.

 

++ Emma ++

Water hot as I can stand it cascades in blissful abandon over my changed body and, for the moment, I can't even bring myself to give a damn about the sting. This feels so impossibly decadent after weeks of roughing it. Eventually, I have to quit procrastinating or risk soaping up in cold water, so I grit my teeth and roughly scrub up my foreign-feeling body. I've only had these few days to get used to it and that hasn't included a bath.

Going to the bathroom was bad enough. Waking up with my first real hard-on will be a freakin' joy. 

Guiltily, I yank my hand away from my groin as my emotions once again trump physical need. Quickly washing the short nap of darkly blonde hair the change left me, I step out of the shower, perversely glad the mirror is fogged up.

Wrapping up in a towel, I creep to my room, warmed by Henry's things scattered about. Yes, it reminds me of the look on his face when I appeared, but that pain is fading a bit. He just needs time, just like everyone will just need time. There is a pile of cloth on the bed and I’m utterly gratified to find a pair of dark sweats, a t-shirt, warm blue flannel, thick socks and a brand new package of honest to god tighty-whitey briefs.

Once again, I have to laugh with that painful edge of hysteria.

Sitting on the edge of my familiar squeaky bed with my head in my hands, I take a moment to calm before getting into what are obviously David's clothes. They fit well and the irony of that does not escape me. Just dressing in actual clothes makes me feel immeasurably better. With false bravado, I carefully negotiate the steps down to the living space and face the man who is my father, despite our similar ages. He grins warmly and holds out a mug of hot, black coffee that almost makes me swoon.

"There, now you look better. Drink up."

The forced normalcy is soothing, giving me some psychological breathing room. I'm also handed a plate with a pair of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Food hasn't looked so good in a long, long time.

"Not a cook," he explains sheepishly and I have to chuckle and carefully set down the mug before I drop it. The first sandwich is gone in four bites, the familiarity warming my half-starved guts. Around the other sandwich and more coffee, I do my best to explain what happened while he just listens quietly and asks the occasional question.

By the time Mary Margaret arrives, thankfully alone, I’ve pretty much worked my way through it all. She strokes my face hello as I smile helplessly and gives me such a disapproving mom face that I’m startled to faint laughter.

"Oh, I was hoping you'd clean up more."

The reply is out of my mouth before I can stop it.

"Frankly, the idea of shaving makes me want to scream like a B-grade movie queen."

 

++ David ++

I wasn't kidding when I noted that this stranger that is my long lost daughter is a handsome fellow. In his scruffy face I can see hints of myself more strongly than Mary Margaret now, which does give me an odd thrill. Not that I am the least bit disappointed that my first born is... was a girl. But maybe the next might be a son?

It's both sweet and telling to see how Emma leans into Mary Margaret's fussing hands, even as she... he flinches away. Slim fingers rake through the darkly blonde hair, neatening the wild strands.

"The others missed you," Mary Margaret says quietly and Emma cringes into her... himself. "They'll get used to this, they will. Just give everyone some time. Would you like me to take that shackle over to Gold and get his opinion on it?"

"And trust him anywhere near it? I'd rather not. Though, I suppose at some damn point I’m going to have to, aren't I? Maybe Regina'll take a look at it."

Mary Margaret fires me a weird, desperate look I can only partially decipher.

"Well, either choice has its dangers, right?" I hedge a little lamely and I'm relieved when she relaxes. "Taking some time to acclimate can only do you good. Oh, Snow, stop fussing and sit." Reluctantly, she does as asked, but has given me an idea. "Emma? Could you use a hand with some grooming? I could probably give you a trim."

That's never the sort of thing a sane person expects to say in casual conversation. The look on Emma's face is amusing and we both grin at the same time before cracking up.

It feels good.

Once laughed out, Emma agrees to some grooming and I go rifle through my things still here in the apartment. Luckily, since I've been living here, my own hygiene supplies are at hand. So I retrieve them and return to my family, shooing Mary Margaret away to occupy herself. 

A soft bristled brush seems a safe place to start and I neaten the straight, darkly gold strands and make him look a little more civilized. Too bad about those lovely blonde curls. 

"Did you chop this short?"

Not the most subtle of conversation starters, but I can't take it back now. 

Luckily, Emma only shrugs and answers calmly. "No, I woke up this way, and Hook had long hair. Our reversed builds were fairly close to our opposite, and I had this stupid, itchy crap on my face, so I’m guessing the curse or whatever this is means some kind of reversal with the details tailored. If that made any sense..." 

Pulling the handsome face around, I'm once again grateful that the eyes have not changed. The soulful green gaze so like her... his mother's. 

With a comb and sharp little scissors and some mutual giggling, I snip away at the softly coarse hairs until they lie closer to his skin.

"Well, as curses go, this one isn't the worst, right?"

Huffing softly with dark humor Emma agrees. "Right..."

 

++ Emma ++

"Are you absolutely sure?"

"God yes. The idea of being a public freak is not in my cards right now."

It's not my intent to hurt Mary Margaret, it's really not, but she doesn't seem to be able to see this from my point of view. I'm far too raw and weary to deal with the stares and whispers that my very changed self will get right now. After some time has passed, this transformation won't be such a shock anymore, but until then, I’m the world's best sideshow freak.

But good lord those puppy eyes are hard to say no to.

To anyone I have ever used that weapon on, I apologize. That's just not fair.

"Look, MM, I don't want to bail on you, but I feel like a damn spectacle right now. Let me get used to this some more, especially now that we're home, and keep the kid with you at David's apartment. He needs some time to process, okay? Poor kid's had too damn much happen to him and I’m not helping."

"It's not your fault!"

"I know that!" 

Did I really just yell like that? Dammit... Fighting for calm, I force my voice down, choking on my stress and temper.

"I know. But neither was that sleeping curse or being adopted by Regina or the damn curse or the hundred other things that has happened to him. Or me, for that matter. We both need time to adapt."

She finally relents with a tense nod, turning on her heel and effectively stomping out. It hurts, but I’m right and wounded feelings won't change that.

"We really are glad you're home, Emma," David says quietly, making my throat hurt with repressed tears, and he quietly steps out to close the door behind him

In locking the door, I move slowly enough to not crack my knuckles as I throw the lock behind them. Then I just stand there with my hand and head resting on the cool wood, trying to reorient myself to the silence that is not really silence that is Storybrooke and this familiar living space.

Even sounds seem a bit off, like my additional height has altered how sound waves get to my brain. Things smell weird and my clean clothes and these surroundings are luxurious and disorienting. It's going to take some time just to move past living in that forest, killing my own food, running from impossible creatures and evil things.

Both craving and fearing the solitude, I carefully creep back upstairs and collapse onto my squeaky bed. After roughing it for so long, it feels strange and almost uncomfortable. Being trapped in this gigantic, foreign body doesn't help. Exhaustion eventually pulls me under, offering me some solace for now.


	4. Public Exposure

++ Emma ++

(11-6-12)

For two days now I’ve holed up in the apartment that still feels disturbingly foreign to me.

Sorta like this new body.

I’ve been practicing my coordination, unable to ignore my inner drill sergeant, who sounds like Mulan now, amusingly enough. I can almost feel that armored hand smacking me. I miss her. 

Endless basic exercises keep away the cabin fever, pushups and crunches and situps teaching me where my body leaves off now. Slowly, my battered body has begun to heal, bruises and cuts fading a bit. There are a few that will take some time, the raw patch above my eyes where I rubbed it bloody on the bars of the cell, my poor hands mauled by my own clumsiness, the shallow sword slice in my arm. There are some nasty contusions all over my body doubtlessly from endless falls to the uneven forest floor. At least nothing is dangerously sore and I’m reasonably certain that I'm not in need of a doctor. I'd feel better if I could sleep without the memories and nightmares; zombies and giant beanstalks and enemies that dissolve into smoke to name a few.

It's weird to be alone here, no Mary Margaret underfoot, no Henry bugging me at all hours about the next Operation Cobra. David has called a couple times, but seems to understand that I still need some time to settle in. Though right now, I’m just feeling lonely and miserable.

A sharp knock at the door startles me and I raise my head up from my pathetic little huddle on the far end of the couch.

"You have about five seconds," Ruby laughs loudly through the slab of wood between us. "To make yourself decent before I come in."

Oh how I want to object, refuse, hide in a corner until the whole damn town leaves me the hell alone. Yet, I really am just piteously lonely without the people I've grown to adore. So I stay where I am, curiously watching the door, listening as a key fiddles with the lock and the door swings open.

"Oh, Em," she says sweetly, flashing those dimples at me. "You look like hell."

It's completely embarrassing and yet a relief that her sweetness makes me tear up like a baby, sniffling miserably. When she wraps her arms around my head, I bawl quietly into her long hair, completely indulging in the outlet. After a long couple of minutes, I mumble into her shoulder, "Missed you."

"Missed you, too. Now, quit sulking and come with me to the diner."

My look of horror as she stands up straight makes her raise a imperious hand.

"No arguments. Granny insists and she will come here with the crossbow and threaten your life if I don't show up with you in tow. Aren't you hungry?"

With my crap coordination I’ve had little but cold sandwiches since returning to Storybrooke and the cupboards here were already pretty bare even before my new man-sized appetite. My traitorous stomach snarls noisily at her suggestion and my mouth waters.

"I can hear that you are," she chortles in triumph and offers a hand to help me up. When I gingerly accept the gesture and unfold myself from the couch, I’m startled by her bold eyes raking over me. "Almost a shame you're such a looker, Swan."

"Almost?"

 

++ Ruby ++

It's a relief to have her... him banter back, even if it's a weak effort. That the effort was made is the important part. And I sure wasn't kidding about the looker part. At the well, there had been too much going on and he'd been such a mess and such a shock. Now, he looks disarmingly... normal, even if that normalcy is only skin deep. Pain and shock and panic are still bright in the eyes she... he shares with his mother.

"Get your shoes on," I encourage and Emma shrugs awkwardly, like a little kid.

"I... I don't have any."

Really, I could slap myself. Of course he doesn't have any damn shoes. 

"Well, go steal David's slippers or something. He must have left half his stuff here after living here so long."

"Just let me throw on an extra pair of socks. I have those."

"Em, you can't walk all the way to the diner in socks."

When that familiar smile, in that wholly unfamiliar face, is fired over his shoulder at me, I nearly stagger back. How disorienting.

"Rubes, I tromped all over that damn Enchanted Forest and down the giant's frickin' beanstalk barefoot or wrapped in rags. I can handle walking to the diner in socks."

Jumpy with nerves, Emma nonetheless follows me into the autumn chill. There are a few odd glances, but word has gotten around and everyone is polite, bringing down Emma's stress a bit.

"You look different," Emma says uncomfortably and I grin... up at him. Also a new experience, as I had actually been the taller one before.

"This is more... me," I try to explain. "We all have both sets of memories now, like Snow. With some time, we've all started piecing all the parts of ourselves together. Regina's curse was very thorough."

Part of me is angry, pretty much like everybody in this town, but part of me just doesn't have the energy to hate her. And plenty of good has happened here in Storybrooke, leaving lots and lots of mixed feelings.

"I guess I really don't know you," Emma muses softly in the now baritone voice. "Guess there's a whole hell of a lot I don't know, period."

He stiffens when I take his arm, but slowly relaxes at the non-demanding contact as we continue on our way.

 

++ Emma ++

Stepping into Granny's is every bit as awkward as I imagined. But at least it's a best case scenario, what with the stares quickly diverted and the sharp lull in conversation slowly building back up again. No one ran screaming from the building, or pulled out pitchforks and torches. So, it's a win, I guess.

Like her granddaughter, now pushing at my back to make me move forward, Granny's eyes sweep over me, taking in the shocking change. Then she 'harrumphs' humorlessly and gestures to a seat at the counter. "Park it, sheriff. I hear the food back home wasn't to your liking."

There is a smattering of chuckles and I’m guessing the 'barbequed chimera' story has made the rounds. Great, someone will be yelling 'ogre' at me next.

As I gingerly press my oversized body to a stool at the counter, I muse about her calling me sheriff. Another reality I haven't dealt with yet.

"Give it some time," Ruby comments as she appears behind the counter and expertly gets a cup of coffee in front of me. "We've done okay with David so far. Though it will nice having you back where you belong. Let me know if you want any cream with that, hmmm?"

"Thanks, Ruby."

Hope no one heard the grateful lump in my throat at her taking such good care of me. Long minutes pass while I rest my forehead on my clasped hands, inhaling the scent of the hot coffee and this familiar meeting place, listening to the murmur of voices and the bell as someone goes through the door.

Then, the biggest, sloppiest mess of a cheeseburger appears under my nose with enough fries and onion rings to feed half the building. "Jeezus, Granny. I'm not that hungry."

She only smiles like she knows better and hustles off while my stomach informs me that my denial is bullshit. So I wrestle the drippy, painfully hot mess into my big ham hands and take a cautious bite. The burn of salty grease and half-rare beef hits my palate, turning me into a barracuda.

Sanity returns in time and I find myself licking my fingers and humming happily. My belly is as content as a sleepy kitten and I have a little corner to tuck a few fries and rings into. A very smug Granny returns to beam 'I told you so' all over me.

"Marry me?"

 

++ Regina ++

This is the longest I've been around my son since Charming nearly broke down my door weeks ago and took him from me. All of those long weeks of isolation both calmed me and broke my heart. Then to have to face my Daniel as a monster...

Once again, I push that pain down, a hard knot of devastation like seeing the mine caved in behind this son I love more than my own life. I will not taint my time with him with my own pain. He'd shown up of his own choice this afternoon, startling me beyond words. How glad I was to be sober and dressed like a productive member of society. Not always the case lately.

No one visits me at the house and I have no connections any longer, cooped up for my own safety as well as the town around me. So, the company has been so welcome, all the more so because it has been my Henry. When he had wanted to share a dinner with me, I had caved easily, even if the diner means that I have to share him once more.

In the days since Snow's triumphant return, it's been difficult to remember exactly what happened to Emma Swan. It impossible to forget now, as I follow Henry into the diner to watch the spectacle that is this new man and what appears to be the drippy remains of a cheeseburger.

Firstly, no one should make those sorts of noises in public... or outside of the bedroom. Secondly, the spectacle should not be nearly as fascinating as it is.

Scrubbed clean and dressed in sweats most likely straight from David's plebeian wardrobe, Emma is startlingly normal, in spite of the disquieting sex change. If one looks past the mass of scabs and contusions that litter his pale skin making him look like a survivor from a war that is.

Watching him noisily suckling his fingers clean makes me want to turn and escape the awkward situation, but I won't waste my rare time with Henry. The changed Emma says something to Widow Lucas that makes her laugh and lean over the counter to press a maternal kiss to his forehead.

Then that sweetly embarrassed grin swings our way, morphing into discomfort. That twisted expression cannot disguise his good looks, the handsome face with an expressive mouth, scruffy beard and the eyes that have not changed.

"That looks good," Henry says softly, hesitantly and I’m rocked by the familiar smile in that unfamiliar face. It is that quirk of wry humor that finally shows shades of the woman this was last we saw him.

It floors me.

But seems to reassure Henry, as he steps closer, once again away from me and off to Swan.

"It is," Emma says in an upper baritone that sounds a little rusty. Perhaps still getting used to it? The thought amuses me. "I cannot tell you the relief of eating something that I didn't have to kill first."

"Don't I know it," Widow Lucas chuckles and sets down two plates in front of myself and my son. "Meatloaf back home? What a bitch."

Why am I not surprised to see meatloaf on my plate?

 

++ Emma ++

The awkwardness is just about killing me, but at least Henry doesn't appear to want to bolt. He even smiles, once we talk a little, and puts a small hand on my arm, as though to prove that I’m real. The innocent touch somehow makes me feel more real. 

"Hey, um... Emma. Why are you wearing wet socks?"

Oh, yeah, that.

"Yeah, hey, sorry about the muddy footprints, Granny. I need to get some shoes and probably a warm jacket of some kind. I can't keep wearing my dad's clothes all the time."

The lame stab at humor makes Henry and Granny chuckle, and a twinkle of something warm in Regina's eyes doesn't escape my notice either. 

"Mom and I can help you with that."

When Regina and I both stare at the boy, he shrugs.

"Well, she always looks good, right? And makes sure I look okay, too."

"Yeah, okay," I hear myself agree, despite my shock in the offer. There's certainly no arguing that Regina does indeed always look gorgeous and well put together. The woman looks flummoxed, but softens when Henry looks up at her in question.

"Of course, dear," she agrees after a pause. "I'm sure we can be a great help to... Sheriff Swan."

Eager to spend time with my son, I am thrilled with the offer, despite the public nature of it and having to spend more time with Regina. Henry said she saved our bacon at the well and gave me a ride back to town, so it seems logical that making an effort to maintain the truce is worth the while.

I nurse at more coffee while they eat, but refuse a slice of pie. Granny's glower makes me cringe, and promise to come back later to indulge when my belly has room. Several townsfolk stop by to chat and welcome me home, making a real effort to not make me feel like a circus freak.

Granny makes me laugh when she orders me out of my wet socks and hands me a mop to clean up my slightly dirty footsteps on her floor. "At last," I drawl wryly. "A task I can do without endangering myself or others."

"It's a mop, not a sword."

"And my arms are so long now that I don't dare use a fork because I’ll stab myself in the face. There's a reason I’ve been living on sandwiches."

"That, and neither you nor David can cook."

"Yeah, well, there's that, too."

 

++ Regina ++

Watching the awkward way Swan holds the mop like its going to run away is rather amusing. As is the playful glower he flashes when Henry teasingly points out that he missed a spot. There are such unexpectedly similar things about them, things I would have thought fiction until bearing witness to them. There is clearly something to the nature versus nurture debate, but that still gives no one the right to just take him from me.

Some of that must show past my self-control, because Swan's gaze studies me closely for a long moment, expression shuttered. Then he nods faintly, as though we have come to some sort of secret agreement, and returns to his task.

I wish I knew what that secretive exchange was.

After banging the mop around noisily and with murmured apologies, then nearly tripping Dopey to a quick demise, Granny takes mercy and retrieves the mop turned weapon.

I lean over to stage-whisper near Henry's ear. "Rescue the local populace and bring him along, won't you, dear?"

He seems less startled at my unusual stab at humor than I am, a surprise echoed on Swan's face before he actually chuckles and gestures that we should precede him out.

The three of us get across the street with no incident, but Swan does manage to trip over the low curb with a curse that I can't stop my glare over. Sheepishly, he mutters an apology after a shift of eyes to Henry. When we reach Worthington's Haberdashery, he finally comments, reading off the sign above the door. "Suits, Hats, Ties. Seriously?"

"Just because you are not comfortable with this body, doesn't mean you can't dress the part," I tell him primly and sarcastically gesture at the door Henry patiently holds open.

"Don't look at me," Henry deadpans. "I wear a uniform to school."

Swan's eyebrows climb and I only chuckle. Inside, prissy old Grimsby's eyes look ready to pop out and Carlotta is torn between delight and shock. But they shake it off and usher in their new project, past racks of all manner of clothing and accessories any gentleman would need.

Henry wanders over to look over some colorful sweaters and ties with some small interest and I automatically note which colors attract him. Grimsby distastefully sets aside the battered sweat shirt and Carlotta advances on her quarry bearing the dreaded measuring tape. I know from past experiences with Henry that the pair can be very thorough with their measurements and have embarrassed every male in town.

"Surely, Carlotta, a seamstress of your skill can suffice with just a waist measurement and figuring out how tall he is?"

Why I'm helping out the person who tried to take away Henry is beyond me. The faint thrum of warning in my tone works and the woman makes Swan jump with the slide of the tape around his muscled waist. In only that thin undershirt, it's obvious that his physique is impressive, strongly muscled and firmly toned. The bruises are just as obvious, a riot of them shining darkly through the fabric. Despite my need to stay aloof, I can't help but wonder exactly what happened in our old homeland.

Grimsby uses his long arms to measure from floor to waist, making Swan jump from the touch, then from waist to crown.

"You are approximately five foot eleven, Sheriff. Was there anything in particular that attracts your eye in the shop?"

Shaking off my distraction, I move away. Until Henry volunteers me once again, Swan isn't my concern.

 

++ Emma ++

I've avoided mirrors. Oh sure, I’ve caught glances of myself, but look away every time. Just glimpses of hair too dark and too short, a scruffy face atop the big, nicely built body. But there's no avoiding the silvered glass in the classy men's clothing store and my reckoning with myself has finally come.

Sound fades away as I stare at my reflection and try to get my head around it. He's a bit more than average height with dark blonde hair, poker straight. It's just long enough to have some fluff and clearly needs a good brushing. The beard tweaks me out, the itchy tickle of it a constant sensation I haven't gotten used to. And it needs trimming again, dammit. Nicely proportioned shoulders and chest and a narrow waist taper down to strong legs and the lump in between I can still barely think about. Beneath the snug undershirt, powerful muscles shift with my movements and my right hand rests gingerly over the six pack beneath. At least this is an awesome new physique and the straight woman I so recently was admires this handsome fellow I’ve become.

"Well, between you and Gramps, at least I know I’ll grow up good looking."

Startled by the dry wit, I stare at a smirking Henry for a moment before my eyes are inadvertently drawn up to meet an equally startled gaze of one formerly Evil Queen. 

She chokes on a snerk first and I can feel the humor bubbling up, lifting the corners of my mouth, the expression inexplicably echoed on her beautiful face. 

Moments later, we are convulsing with laughter, the sound the best magic I’ve encountered yet. Winded and exhausted from the effort, I rest my hands on my knees and gulp for air before I can straighten up and grin wildly at a very happily smug Henry. Gently reaching out to ruffle his hair, I am suffused with adoration. 

"Thanks kid, I needed that."

The couple of staff members have disappeared and I bet this story will make the gossip circles in record time. Regina is pretty much panting and I can hear the strangled noises of repressed humor deep in her throat. A glance reveals that she is even more beautiful now, her face alight with happiness, dark eyes bright with mirth, her smile sincere. It makes my own hilarity bubble up again and I wave a hand at her, turning away.

"Don't look at me! If I laugh any more, I’ll need clean pants. Or I’m gonna throw up and really piss Granny off."

Practically choking, Regina actually retreats and Henry and I share a triumphant moment. That glimpse to a side of Regina I would have never expected will stay with me, of that I have no doubt.

 

++ Regina ++

Heart racing and belly aching, I stare out the storefront window and feel the startling humor claw at my throat. It's a sensation I can barely name, something so long forgotten that am almost fully ignorant of how it feels. Oh, the last time I heard a laugh like that, low and warm, thrilling me from scalp to toes, my heart too full to contain...

Calmed by my bittersweet memories, I turn to watch the golden child of Snow White. He eyes a vest Henry holds out, but I can tell from here that the yellow highlights will look terrible on him.

"Try something in blue, dear."

Henry nods and goes looking while Carlotta reappears with several lengths of black over her arm and drags Swan to the back to the changing rooms. A moment later there is a yowl of masculine distress and a very flustered Carlotta bustles out. 

"Henry, could you be a dear and give me a hand with the sheriff?"

Again, I choke on laughter, made all the more difficult to fight when Henry echoes the sound, his expression amused. Shooing him away, I focus on the rack of warm sweaters, pulling down several. My mind wanders over the recent memories of that physique, imagining details I do not have, colors against that pale canvass...

Clearing my throat a bit uncomfortably-- the laughter has left me parched-- I’m glad to see Henry reappear, still looking completely amused. 

"The little zippers are really messing with him, so we had to go up a size so he could just pull them up and close the little metal tab. And he hit himself pretty hard... you know."

"Ouch," I sympathize as best I can and shake my head to cover my distraction and dark humor. Having raised this little man single-handedly, I know exactly what he means. "So he'll need a belt, correct? To keep his pants up? Maybe even suspenders."

"Hey, that's a good idea. How about those fun red ones? Since Emma can't wear that jacket she loves any more."

The hot color doesn't match two of the sweaters I have draped over my arm, but the silvery blue one that first caught my eye might be... jaunty with the red. So, I don't over-analyze for once and hand it to Henry. "Wait. He needs a shirt." My hand falls on a plastic wrapped large, but then I remember the breadth of those sculpted shoulders and that broad chest. "Have him try the extra large for comfort."

Laden down, Henry vanishes into the back again. It doesn't take long for his return, Swan in tow.

"Much better," I approve and he actually looks pleased under the expected embarrassment. The suspenders are indeed jaunty against the pale smoky blue cashmere and the black slacks are casually classy. "Do you want those tailored?"

Really, I have no idea where the sassy humor comes from, but Swan gives me a dry look. 

"No, thank you, Miss Fashionista. I’ve embarrassed myself enough. At least I didn't break anything."

"Yet?"

Stepping over to him, my hands automatically adjust the collar and tug at the sweater to sit better over his big torso. And there it is, that sharp, electric tingle of a magic I've never felt before... before Emma Swan touched my arm and Jefferson's hat spun to life. Both of us are startled, I can see it in the green eyes, and I yank my hands away as though embarrassed. Really, me, embarrassed? It's absurd.

"You're still going to be cold."

"Yeah, well, the bare feet won't help that either. I'll be fine for now."

But my eye has already wandered over to where I've been avoiding a temptation. 

"Humor me." His skepticism is rampant over his face and I tease, "It will amuse Henry."

We're both startled at the sleek kidskin jacket in a rich brown with highlights of a deep red I hold open. And once again my mouth is talking without input from the rest of my brain. 

"You were wearing a similar color when you saved me from that wraith."

"Twice," he teases back and I fight down flustered irritation, feeling unbalanced by him.

"Yes, twice. Think of this as a thank you gift."

After studying me for a long, heavy moment that makes me unaccountably uncomfortable, he simply steps over and carefully threads his right arm into the sleeve, brushing against my elbow and ribs, the magic quiescent now. Shaking off the shiver of what almost feels like stymied expectations, I help get his left hand in position and smooth the leather up over his shoulders.

It's a perfect fit.

 

++ Henry ++

When this stranger crawled out of the wishing well, I know I didn't react well. But I’ve been through too much and kinda freaked. Luckily, Mary Margaret was there and took me with her when she went to go kiss David awake. When Mom'd shown up with the big guy I couldn't really believe was Emma, I had only been able to stare in disbelief.

But it's been a couple days now and David talked to me and let me talk about it yesterday before I'd asked him to take me home. It had been weird and kinda awkward to be around Mom again, but we'd gotten better with some time. She'd even let me drag her out to eat at the diner where I was glad to see... Emma. She... he looks better now, not so freaked out and messed up. Dragging him off to get dressed by Mom only made sense, because she always looks good.

Mom. I think I’m finally really starting to believe in her, especially after what she did at the well. I know I’ve been angry at her for a long time, and more than a little scared, but watching her thrash around had really shaken me.

Turns out I don't really hate her at all.

Turns out I've really missed her.

Yeah, I’d been clinging to Emma a lot, I know, and then left to stay with Gramps after the curse broke, but it's not the same. She was all I had my whole life and that can't be replaced. And if I can help her be good now, then I’m gonna do it.

Emma's moved ahead of us as we walk down the street, but I stick with Mom and we both watch the stranger that really isn't a stranger at all. There are mannerisms that I recognize, a certain bounce in the way he walks and how he tilts his head curiously when something catches his attention. It's weird, but it makes me feel better, too.

When we step into the shoe shop, I see that Emma is holding his face and Mr. Cobbler is offering a wad of tissue. "Terry, relax, I’ve bashed my face way harder than that since this damn change happened. It's just a little bloody nose. See, already stopping. But thanks." Mopping off the small trickle of blood on nose and fingertips, he grins sheepishly at me and mom. "One of these days, I’ll get used to being so... long."

It seems kinda rude to laugh, but it is sorta funny. 

"How big are your feet?"

"No idea. Terry here is going to have to figure that out."

After a few minutes with the foot-measuring doohicky with all of its numbers, Mr. Cobbler comes up with a size twelve. So I grab a plastic bag of men's athletic socks and hand them over. 

"Thanks, kid."

When Emma starts trying on sneakers that don't match the new clothes, Mom clearly wants to say something, but holds back. Another point in her favor as a change for the better. Emma catches the expression as he laces up the light shoes. "Sorry to mess up your ensemble, Regina, but the idea of pinchy dress shoes right now gives me hives. Besides, I need decent traction to keep myself on my feet."

"Yes, I can see that," Mom comments a little sarcastically as Emma stands and sways, grabbing Mom's hand when she automatically reaches out. They're acting a little weird, but everyone's acting a little weird around Emma right now. That makes me doubly glad for this nice, normal shopping trip.


	5. Learn Anew

++ Emma ++

When I come back to Granny's Diner, Ruby's wolf whistle-- ironic choice of words, that-- makes me cringe shyly, but I really do feel a thousand times better now. 

"They do say clothes make the man. Nice work, Regina."

My personal shopper acknowledges the compliment with a faint nod and an even fainter smile. "The shoes were all him."

What can I do but shrug sheepishly as Ruby leans over to look at my feet and laugh?

It takes a moment to notice that Mary Margaret and David are here, the latter twisting around in his seat, both staring in astonishment. Shrugging in shy acceptance, I only flinch a tad when Ruby flounces over to hug my right arm and drag me back to my stool next to a gently smiling Archie. 

"Good to see you, Emma."

The universal effort of this town to be really nice is so welcome and I actually smile back. 

"Thanks, Archie."

He's even kinder and doesn't offer professional help, though I bet he's itching to. To my surprise, Henry insists that Regina takes the empty stool beside me and that he'll go sit with his grandparents. And Granny adds to the surprise with not one plate of pie and ice cream... but two. 

"A spoon," I chuckle and wave the implement at Granny, who grins. "You do love me." This is still going to be a difficult task, but the treat will be worth the effort. I manage to get three very sloppy bites in before I notice that Regina seems to be at a bit of a loss. Looking at her profile, I can see that there are a variety of emotions dancing at the corners of her expression. "Ice cream's melting." Dark eyes shift to mine and her emotional conflict is even stronger there. With a sigh of oddly fond exasperation, I take a wild chance and shift my clumsy spoon to my left hand to reach over and lop off the pointy end of Regina's pie. Stuffing it in my mouth, I manage to painfully pinch my lower lip between spoon and teeth, but swallow the grimace. "See, it's safe."

The flummoxed look on her face is priceless. Yes, I really did just make a poisoned apple joke. If she's really going to turn over a new leaf, we have to move past what has happened before. Watching Henry seem to die right there in front of us both had devastated the woman, I never doubted that. That she's trying to do right by him rings true.

"Chill out, Regina," I coax gently. "If Henry says you're trying to go good, then I believe him. Besides no serious bad guy picks out red suspenders. Now eat your pie before it gets cold."

Doc is on Regina's other side and I’ve noted that he hasn't acknowledged her, but he hasn't left either. Well, studied neutrality is better than hostility, I guess. In an oddly companionable quiet, Regina and I sit there in the hum of the familiar diner and finish our treat. I find myself brooding over the last couple times I've touched this woman. Something in me warmed to life, radiating out to mix with something in her. Jefferson's stupid hat had been useless until I'd laid my hand on Regina's arm, the sensation startling me as much as the result. Like when I had kissed Henry back to life, when I had kept Cora from taking my heart. It's overwhelming, that odd power inside me.

"Hey Mom," Henry suddenly pipes up at our elbows and draws our gazes to him. He looks a little shy and awkward, though not in a bad way. More like a nervous tweeny asking a classmate out for a first date. "Do you think it would be okay if I came home tonight?"

 

++ Emma ++

It's sweet to see how Regina's eyes get wet as she nods carefully, clearly unable to speak for the moment. They shouldn't be separated and I find it harder and harder to remember why I fought it so hard. 

"That sounds great. Then I'll see you guys around?"

Startled out of the emotionally heavy moment, both of them look at me and I’m struck by how similar they are in subtle ways. Henry may not look like his adopted mother, but his body language and mannerisms are all hers.

With some inane pleasantries and another thank you for the jacket that makes Regina duck her eyes away as though shy, we've all agreed to spend some more time together at some time in the nearby future.

Waving goodbye to Henry, I smile for Regina's benefit as much as his as they walk out together. Then I pad over to carefully wedge my long bulk in the booth opposite my folks. 

"Hey guys."

Immediately, Mary Margaret reaches out to take my left hand in hers to smile tightly. 

"Good to see you, Emma. Are you doing better?"

"Yeah, I guess. So, I bought you some privacy. Henry asked to go home with Regina."

"He told us he was going to," David acknowledges, clearly torn, but letting it go for now.

"Fair enough, and thanks for sending Ruby over to kick my ass. She was right that I needed to get out of the apartment."

The amused and guilty look on my former roomie's face confirms that I’m right. I'm glad to see her lighten up and I'm hoping that we can move past our awkwardness. 

"Well, you were friends..."

"We're still friends," pipes up said Ruby and plops down to shove at me with a hip. "Scoot over, Sasquatch."

"Sasquatch?" I question in amused disbelief.

"Uh, yeah. Tall and furry. Deal with it. So what's the plan to get you integrated back into town life, hmm?"

Shaking my head fondly, I refocus on my father. "I've actually been thinking about that. For now, will you please stay on as sheriff?" When he opens his mouth to protest, I raise a hand, nearly knocking over Mary Margaret's water glass. "Look, right now I can barely keep my feet under me, much less keep any peace. Let me finish learning how to use this big, stupid body before I have to deal with guns, or swords or, god forbid, driving a car. No one knows how long this will last and I guess I better... well, man up and deal with it."

Mary Margaret looks at me all misty-eyed, beaming approval, and squeezes my fingers almost to pain before letting me go. The parental adoration still makes me uncomfortable, but I’m growing to like it. After a moment, she clears her throat. "Would you like some 'get used to this lessons' like Mulan was trying with you?"

Snorting inelegantly, I rub a finger through the water condensed on her glass. "God no. Not yet anyway. It's bad enough that I can barely think straight around all you pretty girls. I swear this damn body has a mind of its own."

Clapping both hands painfully over my mouth, I stare at my nonplussed parents, gaze jerking spastically over to a startled and utterly amused Ruby.

"Oh shit, I’m sorry. Where the hell is my edit button?"

There's little else can I do but lean over to clonk my forehead to the tabletop while they chuckle at me.

 

++ David ++

(11-7-12)

Today is a new day and my daughter needs some training to accept what she has become. No point in avoiding it. Unlocking the apartment, I step in and ask the others to wait for me before going to Emma's room and knocking smartly. With a muffled curse and thump, I have clearly succeeded and call out cheerfully. "Morning Sunshine, rise and shine! Today is boot camp."

After a moment a disheveled Emma answers the door, squinting irritably. 

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Get dressed in those sweats I left you and come say hello to our guests. No need to mess up those nice slacks Regina found for you."

Ignoring the spluttering of my daughter, now son, I stride back to the kitchen to make coffee and small talk. We're halfway through first cups by the time he stumbles in and Leroy crows with amusement.

"Well, hot damn, sister, the stories are true. Welcome to the dark side."

Blinking owlishly, Emma looks helplessly at me. "What's going on?"

Magnanimously, I toss an arm over his shoulders, noting that I still have a couple inches on him.

"Leroy, Archie and Michael have agreed to help you out."

"With what, dare I ask."

"With learning how to use this."

The punch to the chest isn't hard, but it's not gentle either and Emma glowers darkly, not liking the male bonding gesture. Leroy laughs raucously and Michael smiles while Archie just shakes his head. The later speaks up before I can.

"We just want to help you adjust, Emma. I can't even imagine how difficult this must be."

"Thanks Archie, I appreciate that," Emma sighs and goes to sit beside him and take the cup of coffee Leroy nudges over. "But I don't really get what this 'boot camp' is supposed to entail."

Hissing with pain from the sloshed coffee, Emma manages to not drop the mug, but it's a close call.

"Well, for one thing," Leroy smirks. "To learn to not do stuff like that. This new chassis of yours is just another skill, right? So dad here asked us, small, medium and large, to come help out by givin' you someone to interact with." That evil grin makes me feel bad, but there's no stopping Leroy when he gets wound up. "And I hear the girlies are a distraction now."

 

++ Emma ++

If it were possible to die from embarrassment, this would be the time. But since that's not an option, and trying to leap over the couch and throttle Leroy is more likely to result in me breaking my own neck, I’ll let it go... for now. 

With little more than a cup of coffee and another of David's endless sandwiches in me, the guys unceremoniously hustle me off to go horse around in the drizzly morning. Really, that's all it seems like. I've pretty much got walking down, but running has me soaking wet and sore from falling into the grass outside the elementary school. I practice grabbing at them, Archie who looks me in the eye and doesn't have a mean bone in his body, Michael who is larger then I am in both height and bulk, and Leroy who isn't any taller than my original self. Though he's a sturdy little bastard, and quick on his feet.

For hours I’m merely wet, cold and annoyed. Then I notice that it's having an effect, little by little. Like with Mulan's gruff patience back in the Enchanted Forest, I'm learning to adapt. Thankfully, Ruby eventually shows up, striding across the grass at us, laden down with a massive picnic basket and an umbrella.

"Hey boys, you ready for a break? How you holdin' up, Sasquatch?"

No, it's not a fluke. Dammit! The physical pull to Ruby's attractive, feminine self is a deep urge that is at distinct odds to my regular tastes.

"Guess sexual preference really is genetic," I groan and have to turn away from my grinning pal. We all dig into lukewarm fried chicken and potato salad and cherry pasties with gusto, laughing and having a good time.

I really like these people.

Even after all this time, it still startles me. 

I had no roots, no ties to the world, a loner with no home but an old yellow beetle and a few trinkets and a past I’d just as soon forget. Then Henry dragged me into my destiny and I have never been the same. And now these guys, little more than friendly strangers, have taken a whole day out for me, gotten cold and wet and bruised up, just to help me adapt to the newest insanity to befall me.

After Ruby has stuffed the five of us with picnic food, she stays for a bit to cheer us on as the games get more intense and sillier. It's so weird, this 'just one of the guys' cliché that really does make me feel like a part of my new tribe.

Though, I screw it up by getting distracted by the sway of Ruby's hips as she walks away, and get a shrieking shock to my nervous system by stepping in too close to Michael's swinging arm and getting the back of his knuckles full in the crotch. Through the white noise in my brain, I swear I will never tease a male about this ever, ever again. This outdoor plumbing thing sucks. 

 

++ Henry ++

It's really weird, not having a grownup to directly answer to. Mom has always been really strict and the freedom with Gramps had been fun, but now I just feel... kinda lost. I don't like being without a schedule. I never get half as much done as I used to and my grades have slipped.

"Hey Henry!"

Startled, I turn to see the Zimmer twins trotting towards me. After the shoplifting thing, they were really sorry and have actually been kinda friends to me. 

"Hi."

"Our dad just called and he's over at the park with David and Emma," Ava says happily. "Wanna walk with us?"

Happy with the company, I agree quickly and we all talk as we walk around the school grounds to the big grassy field next door. Seeing Emma in what looks like really clumsy combat with Archie of all people, is not what I expected and the twins snicker. As we get closer, Nicolas marvels, "wow. Is that really her?"

"Hearing about it and seeing it are two different things," his sister agrees and I feel bad for Emma. Leroy is here too, and greets the three of us along with the other men.

"Oh, Henry," Emma groans, clearly exhausted. "Thank all that's holy. Please save me from these Neanderthals. I can barely walk I’m so sore."

I can't stop the giggle, because... he sounded just like Emma for a moment there. It doesn't matter that the voice is different. Michael slaps Emma on the back, making him stumble, before hugging my school pals. 

"Sorry Em, you're on your own getting home."

"S'ok, Mike. Thanks for your time. Good to see you, kids."

"Bye, Sheriff Swan," the twins chorus as they follow their dad out to his truck.

"I should probably be on my way as well. Pongo must be getting antsy."

"Yeah. Thanks for all this, Archie. Knocked off some of the most awkward edges."

"Feel free to come by and see me any time you want to talk."

"Thanks, I'll do that."

Before Gramps can say anything about it, Emma has volunteered to walk me home. My feelings are mixed when I notice we're headed for Mom's, not one of the apartments. But she wasn't around for all the stuff of Gramps taking me away from that house where I didn't feel like I fit in anymore. 

Halfway there, we're just talking about my day at school and how the guys were helping Emma learn this new body, when he stops in his tracks, almost in the middle of the street. "Hey, you are still going home to your mom, aren't you?"

I had been prepared to replace the woman who raised me with the one whose blood I share. Now, my feelings are all jumbled up, because Emma is really different now, with being a man and all. What sort of relationship will I have with him now?

How long will this last?

And what will I do then?

 

++ Regina ++

How good it had felt to have Henry here after such a long absence. This big, empty space needs his warmth. My cold, scarred heart needs his warmth. I will cling to the sunshine of his presence to hold off my winter.

Yesterday had been... fun. It is a foreign language to me, the frivolity of humor and casual indulgence with no expectations. Like Emma Swan's presence. Who knew the woman could be such good company? Seems whatever magical 'doohicky' had wrought that enticing change also had modulated that uncouth personality. When had I last bantered with another adult just for the sake of the interaction? Nothing to gain, nothing to lose, no political maneuvering. And that wry sense of humor from both Henry and Emma! So clever...

Lost in the memories of the first pleasant day I’ve had since... well, suffice to say it has been a very long time, I imagine the sound of a key in the door.

When it actually opens with a cheerful greeting from my son, I can only stare in astonishment. 

"Henry," I breathe out in wonderment, noting a bedraggled Emma Swan trailing in his wake. "You're here."

"Well... yeah," he says awkwardly at my disbelief. "I... I slept better here."

Oh, how I want to hug him, hold his growing frame tight to me and never let go. But clinging too tight drove him off once before and I learned my lesson well. To my absolute joy, I do get a quick, fleeting hug, the bulk of the couch between us, his breath warm against my hair for a moment. Then he grins at me, close enough that I can briefly stroke his soft cheek.

"Go on, ask," he chuckles and gestures at a very awkward Swan, shifting from one foot to the other.

"Ask?" I parrot and watch Swan rub a hand over his face, expression resigned. "You do look like the wrong end of being dragged through a wet meadow. Possibly backwards."

"Well, not quite, but that's close enough. Some of the guys decided I needed to start really learning to use... this." A vague gesture at his large body conveys the meaning. I'm gratified to see that he didn't wear those new clothes, but the horrible fleece and flannel instead.

"Thanks for walking me home, Emma. Maybe we can do it again?"

"Sure, if the weather's not rotten. I'll coordinate with your mom."

"Sweet! I got homework now, see ya later!"

"Bye."

With a rush of noise and activity, Henry is up the stairs and his door slammed shut. Once, I would have gone after him for the uncouth noise. Now, I let it go. He's doing his homework and that's far more important than small details that would have once made me crazy.

"This is quite the change."

I honestly had not meant to say it and Emma sighs heavily. "Yeah. Well, there's no way I’m in any condition to do it and he's safe here."

There's a faint note of 'for now' at the end of the sentence, but I really cannot bear it any grudge. Frankly, I'm just too weary and beat down from my former loftiness to strive much higher than I am now.

"Well, I should get going," he mutters awkwardly and turns to tromp back towards the front door. "Come lock up behind me."

Perhaps it is that small kindness, a reminder of the questionable safety of the deadbolt, but I find myself on my feet and following.

"Emma, wait." Both of us are surprised by the use of that very personal name. "Come join us for dinner. It will be nice. I mean, a nice surprise. For Henry."

Blinking, he is nonplussed for a long moment and then once more gestures helplessly at himself. It's oddly... sweet, for lack of a better word. 

"I'm a mess."

"It's not even four in the afternoon. How does seven sound?"

His smile is every bit as beautiful as the son she gave birth to so long ago. For the woman is still in there, despite the physical body being so utterly opposite. 

"Yeah, that'll be great. Thanks! I'll see you at seven then."

 

++ Emma ++

Baffled by the invite, I’m at a bit of a loss. Mustering my weary muscles, I jog back to the apartment and dawdle through a shower, relishing the heat. My feet are not at all happy being jammed back into my soaked sneakers, but it's temporary.

One nice thing about this weird little town, is that everyone knows each other and now we're all in the same damn boat. I'm betting that I can get some credit towards clothes until I can figure out such mundanes as my finances. Barry is a big, gregarious guy who makes a real effort to be really normal with me. Though I notice that he doesn't touch me, pretty much going out of his way not to. As reactions to my sex-change goes, it's about as benign as I could have wanted.

Whatever the hell these dark green hunting pants are made of, I need about five more pairs of them. They're butter soft and warm and fit this new body perfectly. Also, they're roomy enough, especially in the crotch, to not freak me out. Slightly fuzzy on the outside like the bastard love child of synthetic fleece and really soft wool, the inside is lined with smooth cotton which is really comfy. A heavy white cotton shirt with a collar and buttons looks good on my new, angular frame and I find a pair of sturdy hiking shoes that feel pretty good.

All in all, looking in the mirror, I look like a relaxed Friday night in Storybrooke-- even though it's only Wednesday-- as well as looking like a better dressed knock-off of my father, which is both hilarious and faintly creepy. Shaking that thought off, I make payment arrangements with Barry and shove my other clothes and wet sneakers in a bag.

Should I bring a little token gift to the Mills house? Looking over the small stores lining the town center, I muse over the possibilities. Oh, that'll be perfect! A quick walk down the street and several hellos to townsfolk later, I smile shyly at matronly Mrs. Potts. 

"Evening, Georgia."

"Well bless my eyes, if it isn't Sheriff Swan. My goodness, Ruby did say you'd become a handsome fellow, and I see she didn't exaggerate."

Blushing faintly-- I can feel the heat on my traitorous pale complexion-- I shove my hands in my back pockets and shuffle like a shy child. 

"Yeah, well thanks. Can you help me out with something?"

"I will certainly try."

"I'm going to dinner with the Mills. Should I take a little gift?"

Her expression is almost funny, a conflict that permeates this whole cursed town. They all love Henry and now remember that they hate Regina. But peace holds because no one wants war, especially not in the cursed fishbowl that no one can escape. Even I have no urge to try it and I’m technically apart from the curse. I think....

"I have just the thing, Sweetie."

 

++ Regina ++

"Wow, that's a lot of mashed potatoes. We’re gonna be eating them for a week!"

Ignoring Henry's marveling at the food, I continue with my preparations and listen to him ramble on about a variety of random subjects. Most are of little or no concern to me, but I couldn't care less. They are being shared by my beloved son and that's all that matters. 

"Pork roast too? Awesome!"

"Henry! Close that oven."

Grinning mischievously, he obeys and I bite back any further words. This is what I must do, weigh everything I do, everything I say. It's worth it.

"The pie should be done if you'd like to take it out now. There's a trivet by the sink."

"Okay. Mmmmm, cherries! Hey didn't you already bake something?"

With the care I taught him when handling hot things, Henry deposits the pie to cool and slam dunks the oven mitts back into their drawer. No need to comment on the flourish. It's actually rather adorable. He cheers himself and dances around as though it was the game winning shot and I can't help but chuckle and applaud. 

Then there's a knock at the door and my eyes flick to the clock. A full twenty minutes early; impressive Swan.

"Get that, won't you, dear?"

Puzzled, he does as I ask and squeals Emma's name, the rich baritone laughing happily in response. I can't resist peeking into the foyer to see the sheriff, arms raised in surprise at the little bear hug around his middle.

"That feels really weird," Henry comments, poking at the muscled midriff, and I cannot help my small laugh.

"Yeah, I know what you mean," Emma agrees, "but thanks for the hug anyway. I come bearing gifts, courtesy of Mrs. Potts expertise."

"Sweet!" Henry crows over the small cellophane bag with the purple ribbon I recognize. So to do I know the label of the wine bottle being offered my way with a small smile on the bearded face. He looks like a casual night out in the sturdy hunting pants and white button up shirt and new hiking boots. This version certainly has better fashion sense then the woman he once was. Or at least the style of dress works better on this body.

"And how did you know this would go perfectly with pork?"

"Is that what smells like that? I apologize in advance if I drool at your feet. Oh, just a lucky guess."

"Well I’m gratified that you've arrived hungry."

"This body has constant appetites that I can't keep up with."

Both of us simultaneously realize how that sounds, his cheeks pinking, a touch of heat in my own face. Must be all the cooking...

"Well, we can't have that, can we? Henry, dear, will you please set another place?"

"Sure!"

Henry looks at me when I hand over an abbreviated set of flatware, but picks up on my faint smile. Emma, at the table, looks at the utensils oddly when Henry passes them over, then gives us a wry smile.

"No fork. Funny."

My laughter is very freeing.


	6. Turning Point

++ Emma ++

Pleasantly stuffed to the gills on some of the best cooking I've ever had the pleasure of eating, I study the game board only to realize that I am well and truly screwed. Groaning in defeat, I clonk my head to the floor between my elbows and wave one hand lamely. 

"Uncle, already, kid. This is my third fleet you've sunk. Is there something else I might have a chance of winning? Anything else?"

Smugly adorable, Henry rolls over from where we've been lying on our bellies, face to face over the Battleship game. 

"Mom, can I have a cookie?"

These are the sort of things I missed out on, giving him up all those years ago, ordinary snippets of time passing in doing ordinary things. There are niggles of guilty second-guessing but I know, even if I'd had knowledge about what has come to pass, that I wouldn't do a thing differently. 

Regina looks at him seriously for a moment before nodding and going back to her book and the glass of the wine I’d brought with me. Rolling over onto my back, I study her until the dark eyes once more lift.

"Y'know, we fought so much that I don't know that I ever complimented you on what a mostly nice kid he's turned out to be."

A multitude of expressions flit over her features; pride, annoyance, something almost shy, pain, happiness and more I have no name for. Her mouth works for a moment, almost like she's chewing on something tough, before she relents with a nod. 

"Thank you. He's a very easy child to love."

Right on cue, Henry comes out of the kitchen to place two mugs on the table and grin. 

"Come have a cookie with me Emma, they're really good. Do you want one, Mom?"

Again, there's a rainbow of subtle emotions on Regina's face before she nods and smiles. "Yes, that would be nice. Thank you, Henry."

He scampers off to the kitchen while I sit up and attempt to right my ungainly physique. Because, while I've gotten far better with it in six and a half days, I’ve been sprawled out in an awkward and kinda uncomfortable position for some time.

So, no shock that I effectively head butt Regina back into the couch as we both try and get up at the same time.

With a startled 'whuff', she's back on the upholstery and I’m back on my ass. 

"Sorry about that. Still klutzy. Good thing you're soft. Well, not like out of shape soft, because you're not. That kind of soft that is..." 

Completely embarrassed by my clumsiness and my stupid mouth, I can feel the heat on my cheeks. Regina seems merely taken aback, like no one dares get in her space, even by accident. Probably a pretty accurate statement.

"You first."

Regina needs no more encouragement, standing and moving aside so that I can gather myself, with the help of the couch, and struggle to my feet.

 

++ Henry ++

I only know what my mom was like before she got me, by the stories. And I put a lot of faith in those, which is why I turned on her in the first place. Knowing what I know about her, I bet there weren't a whole lot of people who could do what Emma just did and live to tell about it.

No, the head butt hadn't been on purpose, but that wouldn't mattered to the Evil Queen. But Mom only looks at him oddly while he blushes before she calmly comes over to join me at the table.

It's hard to watch poor Emma try and get coordinated enough to get to his feet. Before, Mom and Emma were about the same size, though they were shaped pretty different. Now, he's not much shorter than Gramps and easily as muscled. I can't even imagine how hard it must be to change shape and size so much, learning to control everything. I mean, I'm growing fast, but this is just crazy.

Finally getting up, Emma arches his back in a stretch, groaning. 

"Next time, we play at the table, kid."

"Okay. Maybe you can come have dinner with us again?"

Giving Mom my best puppy eyes makes her struggle to not stare me down. Once, she would have made me obey, because that's what she did. Now, she fights with herself and actually looks away first. I don't know that she's ever done that before...

After a moment, as Emma carefully takes a seat with us, Mom sighs and nods. "Certainly. That will be nice." Then, her eyes soften and I see a small smile at the corner of her mouth. This is the part of her only I’ve ever seen, the warm and kind part. "Particularly if you bring another bottle of that wine."

Emma chuckles and carefully reaches out one big hand to pick up a mug. He still moves like everything will shatter apart if he moves to fast. 

"Sold. Now since you've still got what, a third left, how about I restock you on Friday?"

"That will be fine."

Finishing my cookie, I’m halfway through the slightly sweetened milk, when I nearly spit it all over Emma. Swallowing hard enough to make my throat hurt, I blurt out, "oh, man, I totally forgot! Emma, I saw Aurora again. I meant to tell you when I saw you after school."

"Really? That's great. I mean, not the nightmares, but great that you saw her."

"The room isn't so scary now, since I have company sometimes. She said that she and Mulan are okay, and she got her heart back and they're looking for the wraith to try and get Phillip's soul back. I even managed to get close enough to her that we could almost touch. Y'know, if anyone could touch there."

Big hands curl around mine and I stop rambling and look into soft green eyes. "Thank you, Henry. It means a lot to me to know they're doing okay. Are you sleeping decently at all? The truth."

"It's.... It's better and not better. Gramps is so protective, and that it makes me feel really safe, and he knows how to help with the sleeping curse nightmares and stuff... But being here, where I’ve always lived, helps too."

Mom looks torn.

I know just how she feels.

 

++ Regina ++

Part of me wanted to object to Emma herding a yawning Henry up to bed, but this new life is one of compromise. Having him be here is the truly important part, not grasping at every small shred of control. So I sip my second glass of the fine, sweet white wine I love from Mrs. Potts' shop. I've missed it during my exile here at the house. It goes well with the faint lingering taste of oatmeal cookies and the baklava I made earlier.

Over the hiss of the gas fireplace, I can hear the murmur of voices, a burst of laughter, an intimate quiet that both warms me and makes me feel left out yet again. 

Eventually the door upstairs whispers open with that intimately familiar tiny squeak I have listened to for so many years. Heavy footfalls move carefully, deliberately-- particularly on the stairs-- and soon Swan settles to the couch beside me.

"He's down."

I only make a noncommittal noise in response, not in the mood for casual chit chat.

"Will you answer me a question?"

Apparently, he is in the mood for chit chat. Yet, despite my reluctance and annoyance, I’m curious and turn my body half towards him and away from the fire. 

"I'll do my best."

He hesitates, rubbing at his jaw and I ignore the anxious twinge at the base of my spine from the raspy noise. Really, his peculiar mannerisms should not be nearly as enticing as they are...

"What exactly happened at the well?"

Of all the things...

Just being reminded of the well seems to reawaken the grumble of foreign magics hiding deep in the writhing funnel cloud of smoke within me. It has done nothing but sit there like a great weight impossibly suspended in mid air, sparking like glass lightning. So far I have found no means of doing anything with or banishing it away and I’m reluctant to push too hard. I wonder sometimes what will happen should it fall...

With the calm and unexpectedly non-judgmental audience, I find myself talking softly. I speak of the fairy dust crystals stolen whole cloth and the hideous storm of killing violence centered like a deadly spider's web at the mouth of the innocent-looking wishing well, but I do not give voice to my terror just knowing my mother is alive woke in me. The gut-wrenching fear of the girl within that I have never been able to fully shed.

"Are you okay?"

The urge to snap angrily is so very strong, pressing against my chest and throat like a living thing trying to escape. But I can't be that woman any more and instead, shrug a non-answer. 

"I get by."

Quiet between us becomes uncomfortable as the shadowed eyes just watch me quietly, waiting me out.

"It's better with Henry here."

Smiling knowingly, Emma nods and quickly drains his goblet before standing. 

"Thanks for the clarification. Walk me out?"

At the door, he shrugs into the lovely jacket while I retrieve the bag of leftovers packed earlier.

"Thank you, Regina. This was a terrific night. Sleep well."

I cannot think of a single thing to say as he walks away into the night, never looking back. All I can do is puzzle this enigma until the cold drives me to close the door and return to my brooding.

 

++ Archie ++

(11-8-12)

In lifetimes of strange, I have not lost my capacity for being surprised by it.

And the sheriff is certainly a heavy does of strange.

She makes a striking man. A nice, normal, handsome fellow that no one would take a second glance at unless interested in him as an individual. 

"Emma, good to see you again. Come in."

"Hey Archie."

He'd called me at home last night before dinner and asked for some of my time. Of course, I’m happy to be here for anyone in Storybrooke when they need me. Sighing heavily, a weary sound, Emma drops onto my old couch. 

"Hey, Pongo."

Only then do I notice my faithful companion has his head up, watching the stranger closely.

"Oh, Pongo, I'm sorry boy. Come here." Tail wagging, he responds to my voice, soaking up my pets and scratches. "Emma, he doesn't know you anymore, I'm sorry."

It's a startling reminder of the change and Emma smirks humorlessly. 

"Probably a good thing I don't have my own dog then. Can I make friends again, do you think?"

"Of course you can. Pongo, this is Emma." I do my best to accent the name slightly differently, to reduce confusion over the familiar name attached to the unfamiliar man. "You mean him no harm, so just let him sniff your hand and you two can be friends again."

Sure enough, after a cursory sniff, Pongo is happy with the new guy's caresses to ears and head. And the simple pleasure of petting a dog gets a faint, warm smile from Emma, which I’m thrilled with.

"So, I had dinner last night. With the Mills. Henry was excited by the surprise."

"Is he not staying with you and your father?"

"No, I took him home after school."

Interesting. Filing that away, I carefully consider my next words. But Emma beats me to it, still staring down intently at Pongo's happy face.

"Don’t think David's real happy with that, but Henry needs some stability and with me and Mary Margaret back, that's not happening. Besides, don't they need some time?"

The faintly amused and disgusted expression tells me that he doesn't mean Henry and Regina. There is a lot of conflict on his face, so I prod gently.

"Are you okay with Henry being back with Regina?"

He looks confused and I explain my question.

"You just seem still uncomfortable with her."

I hadn't expected Emma to drop his gaze and the slow flush on his neck and cheeks. "Henry's fine, doc. Regina's proven that he's her top priority. Any... issues, are strictly because of this... change."

For a moment, I cannot fathom what he's getting at, and then it hits me and I'm sure I look nearly as embarrassed as he does. "Oh... I see. Well, she is a very attractive woman."

"She is that, yes."

 

++ Emma ++

There. I've gone and admitted it out loud. Again. Conflicting emotions boil up and Pongo whines, pawing at my leg. The distraction works and I sniffle and continuing loving on him.

"So, apparently, I’m a walking thesis paper on nature versus nurture argument."

"Because you find yourself attracted to a woman."

"Yeah."

"And this hasn't been the case before I'm taking it?"

"Pretty much."

"Does it bother you?"

Now, that is an excellent question. When I nearly freaked out Thursday night, was it because I was sitting there with Mary Margaret and Ruby? Or was it because they are my mother and my best friend?

"I... always figured that healthy sexuality was fluid. That seems the best way for sane people to act."

"That's a very healthy attitude, I agree. How do you feel about men now?"

That is an excellent question and I do my best to find words. "Well, there hasn't been any attraction in a long time. There was some with Graham, in a passing sort of way that might have been more with time, I suppose. Hook was attractive in an asshole sort of way." There's no mistaking the slightly embarrassed grin that flits over Archie's open face. "But since he was the other one transformed, and got left back in the Enchanted Forest, it's a moot point."

"But in the last few day?"

I run my few encounters through my head. David, Leroy, Archie himself and Michael, yesterday in the park. Of all of them, there hadn't been attraction before this crazy change and certainly there isn't now. Not even with casual encounters with townsfolk. So I shake my head and shrug.

"No, not before or since. Guess I just have to wait and see, huh?"

"That's a wise idea. No need to put emotional pressure on yourself since you weren't in a relationship before this happened."

"God, I hadn't even thought of that. It's bad enough with Henry and everyone I was close to."

"Is Ruby giving you a hard time?"

The question is almost teasing and I give Archie a look that is almost sharp. He better not let his own crush butt in on this already awkward conversation. But his expression is still open, a glitter of mischief in his eyes. 

"No, but I think she'd love to. Everyone's been amazing at not making me completely lose my shit over this. Even back in the forest when there was just the four of us."

I've been assuming that the basic story has made the gossip circuits and Archie just nods, so clearly I’m right. 

"They sound like extraordinary women, even for the Enchanted Forest." 

 

++ Archie ++

The experience of both conscience and psychiatrist gives me my next question. 

"Was there any draw to them?"

Ah, that one catches him off guard, the eyes he shares with Snow White turning thoughtful. Knowing Emma even only in passing had not prepared me for how different she would be as this man. He's far more open and approachable than she had ever been. I have some theories of my own for that.

"No. I liked Mulan, would have liked to get to know her better, but that was a peer thing. And Aurora, while a nice girl who had a stronger backbone than I would have given her credit for, is a little..." He struggles, making an odd, helpless hand gesture, before speaking again. "Princessy for me." The smile is wry and I return it. "Clearly, I'm my father's daughter and like my women complicated."

I can't stop the chuff of laughter, try as I might.

"Complicated. Yes, they are that."

For as much as I like Snow White, and I truly do, she is every bit as complicated as Regina. Who I have more sympathy with than perhaps anyone knows. As much as we might want to forget where we came from, there is no avoiding the damage done by family. For it is within the bosom of family, no matter how good or evil, that we are initially nurtured. Now, I've been assuming that Emma knows my story, as anyone who has read Henry's book will.

"Emma, you read Henry's book yes?" My question is answered with a nod and I continue. "Good. Then you remember that my parents were terrible people. I am not without sympathy to Regina's plight. And I would do just about anything to see she has a chance at redemption."

It's as close as I will skirt to the confidentiality I hold dear, perhaps even more so for that particular briar patch of a personality. So vulnerable and so dangerous. Come to think of it, I haven't seen her in here since Halloween when she had been so broken, losing her first love yet again. I need to see if I can connect with her again somehow.

"Well, Henry believes in her," Emma is musing, returning my attention to the here and now. "And that's good enough for me. Especially now that I know more about what happened at the wishing well."

I'm regaled with that story and I file away the words as well as watch his face, listen to the tone of his voice. With a few more basic questions and some reminiscing, it sinks in that this strong personality really does seem to be adapting well.

"What choice to I have, Doc?" He chuckles humorlessly when I point it out. "I've reinvented myself before, and I can do it again. 'Course, that's never entailed something like this, but the point stands."

I don't get an extreme emotional reaction until he nervously asks me to accompany him to a physical exam at the hospital. Crippled with embarrassment and knowing that the exam will have to entail certain liberties with his person, I can understand why he's jumpy. Doctor Whale is taken aback, possibly annoyed by my presence, but he remains aloof and Emma remains calm. He's still a little shaken after being stripped and poked and prodded, blood drawn, so I happily give him a ride home, not minding his withdrawn quiet.

With promises of getting together for lunch, we go our separate ways, my eyes tracking his unsteady progress into the building until the door closes behind him.

 

++ Emma ++

(11-9-12)

More than a day later, I’m still feeling shaken by my trip to the hospital.

Intellectually, I get the necessity, hell that's why I did it in the first place, but strange hands on this body have left me rattled. At least Whale had been completely businesslike in his touches. But I'd still wanted to scream a couple of times, particularly at the none-to-gentle press to those damn testicles! But at least the expert has told me everything appears to be in the right spot and my overall health is still bang on.

Despite knowing I would take some crap from David, I’d gone over to spend some time with my folks after the exam. When a frazzled-looking David answered the door in nothing but a sheet wrapped around his body, I’d burst out laughing. Turns out he blushes as dark as I do when embarrassed. After they'd gotten dressed, the visit had been nice, and I'd gotten Mary Margaret's good cooking out of it too.

Today, by some miracle, I've been left alone so far. The quiet has been a blessing, but I’m also getting lonely. As though conjured up by my thoughts, my new phone rings shrilly and I pause in my strenuous workout to answer.

"Hello?"

"Hi Emma!"

"Hey, Henry. What's up?"

The laughter in his voice carries clearly and I can visualize his smile. 

"Mom says you've probably eaten all the leftovers, so I'm calling to see if you're still coming over tonight. I hope so, 'cause it's Friday and this meal smells even better than the last one you ate."

It's certainly past time to get out of this quiet space and both of their company will be welcome. 

"Yeah, of course I am. Should I bring anything?"

With a bellow that makes me take the phone away from my ear, Henry relays the question and delivers the negative reply. "No, she says to just bring yourself. I think she likes having another mouth to feed. She's such a good cook, y'know. So, I'll see you at seven then?"

"I look forward to it!"

The reminder has left me plenty of time to burn off some more jittery energy, as well as calories, so I decide to take my chances with a nice, long, leisurely jog.

A jog, that to my pleasant embarrassment, gives my arms a workout as seemingly every damn citizen I haven't interacted with since coming home wants to holler and wave hello. The really crappy weather hasn't quite set in yet and the skies are thinly clouded but dry, so lots of people are wintering in planting beds and doing outdoorsy stuff to prepare for true winter.

Never would have guessed how much I would like small town life. Even this odd town with its unbelievable secrets. 

I manage to duck all but two of the 'oh sheriff, if you have a minute...' interruptions and get back to the apartment much calmer and more focused. In the bathroom, I eye my reflection and muse that it's been eight days. Eight days since I was reinvented and I’ve been playing catch up ever since. What if this really is forever?

Oh well, no point in depressing myself over things I have little or no control over. Time for a shower and then off to the Mills house for dinner.

 

++ Emma ++

(11-12-12)

It's been a good week.

I've gotten over the worst of the most basic hurdles of my changed body, like keeping my balance and not smashing my head into every hard surface I possibly can. Seems like the near-concussion yesterday finally got through to my nervous system where my body leaves off now. The skeevy, too-intense curiosity in Whale's eyes is a good incentive, too. Thanks, I have no desire to be the next Frankenstein's monster. That initial physical exam had been traumatic enough, but now I get to associate him with being in pain too.

Once my vision had cleared up I made Mary Margaret take me back to the apartment we had once shared. 

It'll be nice to go a day or three without a headache. I'm just sayin'.

It's bizarre to be at my desk at the sheriff station, getting things adjusted to my new body. David notably was not using this office, but one of the desks in the dinky bullpen near the two cells. He's left me to my own devices for the most part as I re-familiarize myself with my job. Next week, I’ll start looking at relearning a few more skills, but we better take things slowly.

Concentrating hard through the dull ache in my skull, I do my best to make my handwriting vaguely legible. Yet something else that is completely unfamiliar now. These big, thick hands do everything so damn different!

Something is niggling at me, a faint thrum of awareness that has me feeling strangely unnerved. Is it only being here? Or is it something more?

Finally, I can't stand it, tossing the pen down and getting irrationally angry as the damn thing goes skittering away. Will I ever get used to my new size and strength? Argh!

"I'm going for a walk," I practically growl at David and grab my jacket. His gaze is heavy on me as I stomp out, breathing in deep of the chill air, seeking calm. Not wanting company, I make a beeline for the shore, hoping for a corner of this trapped little town not peppered with well-meaning neighbors.

Wait... what the hell is that?

I've lived here long enough for the common landmarks of the place to have impressed themselves into my gray matter... and those tall poles I swear are new. That weird, achy feeling of wrongness is stronger now, insisting I not ignore it.

By the time I reach the waterfront, I’m at a run.

Somehow, I know what it is, my steps faltering. There's no need to see the rear of the great, masted ship, because the child I once was just knows. Panic turns my blood to ice water and I fumble out the police radio at my belt. If Hook is here, that means that...

"David! David, goddammit, pick the fucking radio up! The goddamn Jolly Roger is parked at the harbor! Hook's ship is here! That means that Cora is in town! God, Henry!"

Driven by sheer terror for my son, I have never run so fast, barely aware of the radio bleating tinnily in my hand. I feel no exhaustion or the way my breath burns in my lungs as I skitter around the corner of the final street and see that entire front door and every window has been blasted out of the big, white house.


	7. Face Off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for terror and violence in this one. Unlike the show, I (with a lot of help from Ariestess) let Cora loose. Beware.
> 
> Also, this is where I really start veering away from canon. Much of this was written before canon events contradicted me and I kept this project as is.

++ Regina ++

"So whatcha making for dinner tonight, Mom?" Henry asks as we walk in the front door.

He pulls off his coat and boots, dutifully putting them away before heading into the kitchen with his backpack. Without thought, I straighten his boots on the mat and follow him. He pulls out his books and begins his homework without prompting, making me smile.

"I'm not sure. Is there something in particular that you'd like?"

Henry shrugs and opens his math book. "What does Emma want?" He pauses to look at me with hopeful eyes. "He is coming for dinner tonight, right?"

I pause at the refrigerator, not yet opening the door. "I don't know if he is. Did you ask him?"

"No," he replies, and I can tell he's rolling his eyes at me without turning around. "I thought you did."

An odd flush heats my cheeks and I'm grateful to be reaching into the refrigerator to pull out apples and cheese to make my son a snack. "Why would I ask Emma to dinner?"

Before Henry can reply, the entire house goes dead silent. It is a complete absence of sound that terrifies me more than I have felt in more years than I care to remember. All I can do is yell "Duck!" at Henry and pray that he can hear me in that void of sound. The fact that he bends over in an attempt to get under the edge of the island signals that he has. And he moves just seconds before glass explodes into the room. I can feel the shards catching on my exposed arms and face, slicing through my shirt to score my back, as well. They don't feel like deep cuts, but they burn with the shock of pain and the rush of adrenaline. I drop the food in my hands, feeling glass tumble from my hair, and step closer to my son. He stares up at me in shocked horror, but follows as I stumble toward the living room.

My feet skitter on broken glass, remembering that Henry is in stocking feet only. With a sudden burst of adrenalin, I stop to scoop Henry up as easily as when he was a toddler when he hisses in pain. We barely make our way across the foyer when I feel the change in the air. The front door is suddenly reduced to splinters strewn among the glittering shards of glass from the front windows, and there she is, silhouetted in the open maw of the doorway.

"Can't you even say hello to your own mother?" she asks in that cultured, sweet tone, and clucks her tongue disapprovingly at me. "I thought I taught you better than that."

Emma told me that he and Snow had encountered her in the Enchanted Forest, but I've chosen to bury my head in the sand and not think about the fact that she's even alive. Nightmares do not count either, because I've had those all my life, even when I was sure she was dead and sealed in her coffin in the family crypt. But to consider hearing Emma talk about meeting her, dealing with her? No. And my loathing for his mother has precluded me from asking her about the woman we both know far too well.

Henry's arms and legs tighten around my body, his face buried in the curve of neck and shoulder. The movement, combined with his soft whimper, galvanizes me. No matter what she may do to me, I will not let her harm my son, physically or emotionally.

"Really, Regina," she says, stepping into the house, "do you think that you could possibly stand against me? You are as weak as your father ever was. I was hoping you'd have grown some sort of spine in the intervening years." She runs a gloved finger over the edge of the table in at the top of the steps leading into the foyer, somehow missing the glass from the mirror above it, and examines it as if criticizing my ability to maintain a proper home. "But that's all going to change now. I'm here and I'm going to make sure that you are accorded the proper respect and tribute befitting a queen."

"I don't want that, Mother, I never did. You know that it was never my wish to be a queen. All I wanted was to be..."

"To be married to that pathetic stable boy and have his babies in squalor? No, Regina, you were born for far greater than that."

The resentment and independence I've fought so hard for since shoving her thought that mirror resurface. "Who says that I was born for far greater than to be married to the man I love and bear his children? You? Rumplestiltskin? The fabled Reul Ghorm? Destiny is not set in stone, Mother."

Her eyes narrow at my words, and I can feel my heart start to pound. I know that look far too well, nothing good has ever come of that look. I want Henry far away from this, but I can't trust that she'll leave him alone if he's not here under my meager protection and watchful eye. She raises her hand to chest level, palm facing me, and her smiles twists cruelly as she curls her fist. I have just enough foresight to settle Henry behind me before I feel those ropes of magic twine around my body.

"You will not disrespect me, Regina," she hisses, eyes glittering dangerously. "I am still your mother. I made you who you are."

"No, you didn't," I manage to get out before the ropes tighten. "Rumple did. You just gave birth to me and tried to--" I can't finish the sentence from the intensity of the pain. It's not enough to break ribs or cause serious damage, but it's more than enough to remind me of what she can do to me. I fear for Henry's life, and I have no one to call for help. There is no one powerful enough to help me, no one that would hear my pleas anyway.

 

++ Henry ++

The stories in my book are suddenly, violently real.

Too real.

The book tried to tell me, Mom tried to tell me, and it never really sank in until right now.

All magic comes with a price.

Suddenly, I understand so many things about the mother who raised me, as I watch something invisible tighten like snakes around her body, crushing her clothing and making her whimper in pain. I'm horrified and scared but can't move my hands from where I'm clinging to her shirt, trying to be invisible to the crazy woman causing all this harm.

Cora. A name I've only heard a couple times, the boogie man under the bed. Her voice is cold and calm as she causes pain and terror like she just doesn't care. Well, of course she doesn't care. How could anyone who cares do things like this?

"He finessed what I began," Cora says sharply and there's something in her tone that makes me cold all over. An anger that terrifies me.

Mom cries out and a flash of movement makes me look up to see two big chunks of broken mirror flash by like deadly paper airplanes. Even moving fast, I can see the streaks of blood on them.

"No, Mama, please," Mom cries, her voice broken like a terrified child and something else breaks in me. She is the strong one, she used that strength to be evil, to make everyone do what she wanted, to burn and destroy and hunt and even kill. But was it actually strength? Or was it terror? Nothing makes sense any more. Nothing may make sense ever again.

There are more pieces of glass now, whizzing around like deadly birds. Each of them makes Mom make a sound of pain, echoing the burn in my feet and coming up on my exposed skin. The smell of blood is making me sick to my stomach

"I put in the hard work," Cora snarls. "The blood, the sweat, the tears. I molded you and you refused me."

"Mama, stop, please," Mom begs in a strangled whisper. "Mama, I promise I'll be good."

"You are weak and pathetic, Regina."

"No, Mama."

Just listening to them is scaring me. I don't know how to figure out what's going on, but I kind of hope this is just some horrible nightmare. I keep pinching myself, but I can't wake up. I guess that means this is all real somehow, and I just don't want to deal with that. When lots of the glass starts to levitate up in a terrifying cloud like a special effect in the Matrix, I wonder for the first time in my life if I'm going to live much longer. I'm too young to understand death, to understand the craziness in that woman's eyes.

And yet somehow, a whole lot of things suddenly make sense. 

 

++ Regina ++

The witness of my son to this degradation is infinitely worse than the pain and fear. His pain and fear and infinitely worse than my own. All I want is to save him from all of this.

Strength floods me even as the mass of glass animates like a living thing, charging with deadly intent. For Henry, I cannot give up.

The bonds on me strain and start to snap as power roars through me and the glass smashes to impotence against the manifestation of my will. A few of them slip through, but I hardly notice the new pain, galvanized to desperate action further by Henry's whimper of fear and pain.

"No, Mother."

Her mouth twists brutally in her once-beautiful face. "Child, will you never learn?"

Again, the bonds I remember too well. Only this time, Henry's voice echoes my own, his body yanked hard into mine.

"Do you think this mongrel child will be spared, Regina? He isn't your blood, only a placebo for your weak, pathetic feelings."

She sneers the last word, both breaking and incensing me, making me push back with a body slam of power that actually makes her stagger back. But it won't be enough. I'm too hurt and too desperate to think clearly, to beat her emotionless calm. Until, abruptly, the field of battle changes.

As though I conjured him myself, Emma comes barreling through the door like an enraged bull with a thunderous expression that is actually rather terrifying. Mother whips around and dissolves into smoke, barely avoiding his grasp, and he grabs both Henry and I into his powerful arms.

Pure, raw energy dumps into me like grabbing a live wire. Some dispassionate part of me remembers this, when Emma touched my arm and Jefferson's hat spun to life, stunning us both. Without a word, I brace myself and, sure enough, Mother reappears with a thunderously angry expression. But this time I am better prepared, turning aside the power of her sorcery, reeling from the hard hit of it, but bolstered by Emma and our mutual need to protect the son we share.

For an endless moment, I actually think I may beat her, send her away once more from me and the ones I love, but then those cold eyes go calculating once more, flickering from my face to Henry's, to Emma's.

"Will you never learn that love is weakness?"

She has harmed me before, crushing and cutting my body as effectively as my spirit, but the violence she directs at we three this time has a virulence to it that I have never felt before. A toxic hatred that stuns me, given a physical power that rips away Emma's powerful grip away from me, eliminating that haven and source of strength.

I hear myself scream, echoed by my terrorized son, as Emma-- no matter how large and strong a man he is now-- is effortlessly tossed aside like a rag doll, smashing through the wall of the foyer with a splintering crash like canon fire.

 

++ Emma ++

Darkness dances way too damn close, swirling with the pain that lances from head to foot. Who knew there were so many 2x4s in a wall? 

What can I do against this terror? What can anyone do? Even Regina cringes in the face of the monster who gave her life. No child should go through that. Evil begets evil, for children learn first and most deeply from the nurturing adults in their lives.

It is an eternal hole in my own soul from a curse that started here, with this mother and daughter. 

It is a violent, devastating cycle that must end here, before it takes my son, too.

Strength floods in, a great wave of power like an inhale of good, clean air after too long underwater. Gathering myself, the pain fades away as I gain my feet, all clumsiness gone. That woman will harm my son over my dead body.

Stumbling over the debris of the wall, I feel the pain recede further and my resolve grow.

Henry is crying out, his voice terrified, Cora's oily tones like the slithering of poisonous snakes. Regina sounds shaken, fearful, but angry and protective, too. It makes me smile, a feral, determined showing of teeth, and I prepare for battle.

Like a slow motion sequence, I see it play out, Cora's hands on daughter and a grandson she would corrupt as well. A squawk of noise, David's frantic voice blasting tinnily from the radio I dropped, Cora's head turning just that tiny bit...

Like a predator waiting for the right moment, I pounce. There will never be another chance, never be another moment for me to get this right. Every protective, loving instinct that boy and this town have awakened in me focuses like a laser.

Magic has always just sort of... happened to me. Starting up the clock in the tower, kissing Henry's forehead as he slid into death for those horrible moments, touching Regina's arm and the hat spinning and... when Cora tried to steal my heart.

Hearts. So vulnerable and breakable in the most mundane of circumstances anyway, but in the hands of madwoman with magic?

Then... I see it. The pulse of life, not high in the chest where a heart should be, but low, tucked up nearly under a lung. Sneaky bitch. Pushing my big body, stretching out, I reach for it, desperate to stop her. 

Cora tries to twist, her body already dissolving to smoke, but I ram into her with most of my weight. It feels like a bad slo-mo sequence as I grab her with one arm and magic races through me, burning like acid. Gritting my teeth, I punch with that dominant right arm while reaching out for a horrified and shocked Regina with my left.

The instant I touch her upraised hand, power floods through me like a tsunami.

With unerring accuracy, I find it, some intellectual part of my mind wondering at the lack of sensation as my fist vanishes into Cora's gut. Around us, the living room is alive with wind and bright light and violet smoke as the four of us go down in a tangle of arms and legs.

There is a pull and a dragging sensation and we all stare in various levels of horror at the pulsing heart in my hand. Unlike Aurora's, this beast is more black than red, a malevolent swirl of violent shades that twist and writhe with a life of their own. 

"No!" Cora screams like a crazed animal even as she rapidly begins to... to mummify. Screaming and writhing in agony, she batters at me, her fists like twigs wrapped in paper, shredding away drily. Her face become a death mask grin, her skin withering and tightening over her skull, hair falling out, her regal gown sinking and hollowing out. 

Even as I desperately scrabble away, shoving at both Regina and Henry, the desiccated corpse of this deadly enemy...

Withers to brittle bones and dry ash.

 

++ Regina ++

I am strangely numb.

The roaring tornado of power softens, the glass settling like snow in drifts against walls and other vertical surfaces as time and magic at last take their final payment from my mother.

Yelping in horror, Emma scrambles away, shaking out his hand where the ashes of Mother's heart cling tenaciously to his skin. He doesn't get far, collapsing in an ungraceful heap with a wounded cry. Despite my concern for he and Henry both, I am still caught up in the horror spectacle that is my abusive parent, dissolving away into bones and ash. Had she cheated death and destiny so thoroughly? To be reduced so completely to little more than cinders? Is this too my fate one day?

"Mmmom?"

Stammering and crying, Henry has latched onto me even as Emma weakly curls up in a pained ball. 

"We're okay, Darling," I reassure my boy, knowing what he will ask next.

"E... Emma?"

I cannot feel resentful this time as the big idiot came rushing to our rescue. Without even realizing that I've moved, I drag myself-- laden down by Henry's weight-- to Emma's side. Shaking with pain and stress, I warily touch his shoulder, hesitating when I hear his whispered words.

"I'm sorry," he sobs over and over again, stunning me. What the hell does the Savior care about me and my feelings? Or is he merely regretful of the ashes on his hands?

When I rest my hands on his shoulder, there it is again, that heady rush of magic so unique to this one person. Warm and painless, it floods through me, asking nothing of my soul, no price for its power. Too startled to fight it, I let the power rinse through me in a healing wave and radiate out though Henry and Emma.

It's an extraordinary feeling, a soothing, sweet calm that feels as though it does more than just chase away my physical hurts.

The pleasure only lasts a moment as Charming suddenly crashes into my foyer, eyes wide with horror, quickly echoed with the crowd at his back. In that moment, I suddenly realize how this must look, the state of my home, Henry and I bloodied, Emma crumpled to the floor. In that moment, I am at a loss of what to say, of what to do.

Even as the fear and violence focuses like a living thing on me, it is Henry that comes to my rescue. Leaping up, his arms outstretched, he bellows angrily at the crowd. "Don't you dare! My mom didn't do anything bad this time! It was Cora, she attacked us and Emma and Mom stopped her!"

Hissing with pain, Henry stumbles back and I automatically twist to grab him, force away the glass from his flesh, closing the new wounds in his feet. I've never healed someone before, never used my cursed magic for something so good and pure. Even as he returns my choking grasp, the crowd floods in and I cannot bring myself to care about the invasion.

"Mom did it," Henry's words draw me back from where my mind has retreated and I'm stunned to see that the crowd has thinned, Emma having been spirited away. One of Snow's dwarves is kneeling at my side, peeling away Henry's bloody socks and examining his soles. "I don't know how."

Clearly, I'm having some sort of hallucination as the man leaves off Henry with a decisive nod and the shock of his warm fingers on my chin yanks me fully back to the present. "None of them look very deep. Let's get you two out of here and off to someplace warm. Can you walk?"

I can't seem to react to his words, to Henry's shifting weight, his pulling on my hands to urge me to move. The shock is too deep, the hollow, empty space inside too haunting and I feel paralyzed. Even when more of the dwarves cluster about, forcing me to my shaking legs with surprising gentleness, all I can do is cling to Henry's small hand and let him be my anchor once again. 

 

++ Emma ++

No one likes hospitals. Obviously. The smell, the sounds, the fear and misery that clings to them. The second I feel my battered body stir, there is an alarmed feminine noise and my right hand is gripped tightly.

"Emma?"

My mouth curls up even as I blink fully, if not blearily, awake. 

"Hey, Mom."

Sobbing, she presses her forehead to my shoulder and rather than move my other arm, I press my cheek and nose to her dark hair.

"You big idiot, you scared your father and I half to death."

"Sorry. Had to save Henry and Regina."

The earthy green eyes I inherited are shocked in her sweet face. 

"Regina? Why are earth do you care about Regina?"

"Mom," Swallowing around my dust-dry throat, I squeeze her fingers. "I know she's done really horrible things, especially to you, but the cycle has to stop. She's still the woman who raised Henry. She's still his mother in all but biology. He can't learn that sort of hate and pain. He just can't."

Astonishment holds Mary Margaret still and speechless, even when Whale bustles in. 

"Well, you appear to be far more resilient than anyone would have bargained on, Sheriff. Most people violently thrown through a wall, even a non-load bearing one, would not be in as good a condition as you are."

Now that he mentions it, I actually don't feel horrible, just really, really stiff and an all over body sore, like I’ve been working out to hard. 

"Help me sit up."

With both of them assisting, I get seated and swing my legs over the edge of the hospital bed, but suddenly stop short. Lying on the bed beside me is a very pale, very still Captain Hook. She looks even smaller than I remember, pale and fragile against the white sheets. The stump of the left forearm is carefully bandaged to the bedrail, the right handcuffed on the other side.

"This is your Captain Hook, we've assumed?" Whale questions and I nod. "Well, she was found in the pawn shop next to a blackened spot on the floor and a barely recognizable metal object melted to the concrete. David says it might be the shape of a dagger with a strange wavy blade. There's speculation that Gold is gone for good."

As much as the note of glee in Whale's voice is a little disturbing, I can't blame him. After all, Rumpelstiltskin started this whole mess with creating the curse, even if he didn't enact it.

Makes a body wonder exactly what he has done over his years...

 

++ Snow ++

Whale is as confused as I am when Emma asks him to dial Archie on the phone and then holds out an imperious hand. "Hey, Archie, it's Emma. I need your help, please. We have a... prisoner here in the hospital who needs protection from herself and possibly others. Can you come sit vigil tonight? Thank you. I'll let Doctor Whale know you're coming."

Arching his back, the handsome man that was my daughter so recently groans and does a few stretches. 

"It's weird, but I really do feel decent. Where's Henry?"

Good girl. 

"Back at the apartment. The Mills house is pretty wrecked."

"Yeah, I remember. Well, come on then." Grabbing his jacket from the nearby chair and stomping into his unlaced sneakers, he starts heading out, barely pausing as Whale objects. "I have to check in on my kid. I'll come back later if you insist, but I’m out of here right now."

As I scramble to catch up, he pauses for a moment, an odd look on his face. "Regina?"

It's almost as though he doesn't want to ask, but can't help it. I feel the same way. 

"With Henry. He wouldn't let her go."

"Good boy."

I'm completely flummoxed by this... compassion. No, I’m really not. It is the best of the inherent goodness that is part of the bloodline he shares. We don't speak more words, and I have to trot to keep up with his long strides. At our old apartment, we can hear the agitated babble of voices well down the hallway.

I don't like the thunderous expression on the handsome face.

"What the hell is going on in here?"

The near-bellow silences the assembly like a bucket of water on a campfire. When a half dozen voices speak up at the same moment, an imperious hand silences them again. My nonplussed and proud feelings are mirrored on James' face.

"Are there any immediate threats to the town?" Several heads shake negative. "Everyone been patched up, accounted for?" Several nods are answer enough and he steps aside to gesture at the open door. "Good. Now get out. My son, myself, and the woman who put herself in danger to help save us both have been through quite enough for one day."

Blue in particular looks floored at this new facet of Emma, and James grabs Grumpy when that familiar temper starts to flare. With the gaggle of townsfolk receding, James puts an arm around me and we watch this man who had been our daughter carefully approaching a traumatized Henry and-- I have to admit it-- an equally traumatized Regina.

 

++ Regina ++

The racket of voices is only a buzz in my ears, a language I have forgotten how to speak. Bodies move in and out of my vision where I stare almost sightlessly into space.

I feel grounded only by Henry's unceasing grip on me, both of us fearful that without his embrace, I will simply evaporate into smoke.

Or ash.

Suddenly, there is a touch on my temple and cheekbone and the world rushes in to fill the void of my numbed senses. Gasping in reaction, I stare into mossy green eyes as yet again, our combined magics race through me, once more pushing back more of the physical hurts. And the compassion in his expression soothes even the hurts unseen.

"I'm so sorry, Regina."

I still have no words to force past my confusion over his apologies. Nor the confusion of how his sweet touch on my skin feels, coupled with the gentle, sympathetic eyes.

Henry only releases one arm from hugging me when Emma gathers us both to his big frame to be held for an endless moment. And, too weak to protest, to fight the invitation to rely on another's strength, I merely lean into Emma's broad chest and accept the compassion. What else can I do? I am drained of hate, of fighting like a madwoman, of the driving energy that has driven me to the depths of depravity for so very long. 

Somehow, I'm on my feet again, hands bushing at my hair and body to knock away the last of the glass. Thankfully, sorcery flung away the vast majority of it, saving our skins. Then I follow Henry, who has willingly allowed himself to be picked up and carried like a baby by his biological parent. Two steps up the ringing metal stairs-- the sound jarring me like a bell-- and I can feel the tremors shaking me. Even as Henry's eyes widen, there are strong hands on my waist, steadying me.

To my astonishment, it's David, his expression conflicted and oddly sympathetic, the expression echoed on Snow, only steps away. The helping hands get me moving before any of that really registers, and I zone out again for a bit, standing unsteadily in Emma's small, cluttered space. A wet-haired Henry prods me out of it, his expression too sober for his sweet face. Choked with pain that he had to witness my mother's insanity, that he had to actively suffer, I don't fight his pushing me into the bathroom to hurriedly wash up and slip into the tank top and flimsy shorts left on the counter. The distant sting of the remaining cuts begin settling me back into my skin, but returning to Henry's side is far better; his warm, solid presence reassuring me that this is more than a mere nightmare.

I should be annoyed at the imperious, bossy hands tugging at the borrowed clothing, Emma's hands trailing sorcerous warmth over my skin as he looks me over for damage. But like some sort of well-trained animal, I cannot fight the grounding touch, nor the feel of our mixed magics. It feels... it feels good, a sensual, living caress that helps remind me that I am alive, that I have survived again.

The bed creaks and is far too soft, springs poking at me, the sheets smelling utterly foreign. When Henry curls up against me, I could be sleeping in ice water and be content. He is safe. He has not turned against me yet again, not even for this fresh horror.

It is more than I could ask for.

Radiating concern, Emma shocks me a last time by settling onto a chair beside the bed. One big hand pets Henry's wet hair, inches from my eyes and the green gaze is gentle and serious. Only then, do words register, all of them just noise to me until this moment.

"Rest now, both of you. I'll watch over you."

So much more than I deserve...

 

++ Emma ++

Growing up in foster care, I knew a lot of kids. A lot of kids. A colorful rainbow of colors and personalities that came and went like the seasons. At nearly thirty years old, I can barely remember any faces or names any more.

But I know the sound of fear in the night.

Jerking awake, I hiss in pain at the crick in my neck and my aching tailbone. Almost simultaneously, my hands join Regina's in waking Henry.

It really hurts when he recoils at seeing my face.

"Just me, kid. You're okay. Safe and sound at my place with your mom."

Eyes a little wild, he swallows hard and doesn't move away from where he presses into Regina. "I..." shaking his head like he's trying to clear it, Henry tries again. "You saved us."

Drawn like a magnet to the dilated, vulnerable brown eyes behind him, I smile gently. "I helped."

There it is, the weird bond I have with this tortured, attractive, interesting woman. Neither of us understands it, but I don't think she can avoid it any more than I can. 

I'm really surprised when Henry's hand comes to rest on my chin, tracing over the bristly hairs there and up to my cheekbone. "You're not as scratchy as I thought you'd be."

"It's a blonde thing I think. That, and I hate cutting it. Itches like mad, and the idea of shaving scares the daylights out of me. You two sit tight for a sec and let me take a look around and make sure it's still safe, okay?"

Both nod and I can feel their eyes on me as I step through the open doorway and creep halfway down the stairs. In the dim light from the kitchen, I can see Mary Margaret and David curled up on the couch, sound asleep, the gleam of swords close at hand. It makes me smile and retreat.

"Your grandparents are out there with swords close by, so we're in good hands. Now scoot over and I’ll sleep here on the edge of the bed so anything dangerous has to go through me to get to you, okay?"

Good thing I moved the bed around after getting back with this new body. I got sick of falling out of the stupid thing by rolling over too far and turned it sideways to shove it against the wall. Regina makes a murmur of weak protest as Henry's squirming presses her close to the bricks and I carefully lie down so the boy is sandwiched between us.

"Never thought I’d be glad to have them close at hand," Regina jokes weakly, making Henry and I actually chuckle.


	8. Home Redefined

++ Snow ++

(11-13-12)

Coming awake to my old apartment is a small shock after eight blissful days living with James. Nothing seems out of place from the dramatic evening before and I take a moment to review what happened and to enjoy my husband's embrace.

No one really knows exactly what happened in that house, with Emma unconscious and neither Henry nor Regina in any condition to communicate. But we know that Cora is gone, turned to dust, her threat neutralized. We know the big Mills house is pretty wrecked, every window smashed and the heavy front door reduced to splinters.

When I arrived there just behind James, of course I was drawn instantly to Emma's side. Where Regina knelt, shaking, her hands just lifting away from his shoulder and head. Instantly expecting the worst, I would have elbowed her aside if she hadn't fallen back into Henry.

Could she have somehow healed Emma? Regina, my tormentor? Whale said that he should have been far more hurt than he was after being thrown violently through a wall. Regina's hands, lifting gently away from his crumpled frame is all I can remember.

There is still a part of me, that vulnerable child she saved from an out of control horse, that still feels something for Regina. All the horrors she's perpetuated over the years have somehow never snuffed out that adoration completely. But it's a small spark and one not easily fanned to life.

But I can't forget the look in her eyes, that devastation and terror and loss. There was no triumph in it for me, because no one should hurt like that. 

Carefully wiggling away from James' encircling arms, I soothe him back to sleep and creep upstairs. Emma's door is open and I peek around the jamb to find myself both sweetly amused and subtly troubled. Emma is sprawled out on his back, looking massive against the much smaller frames of Henry and Regina, taking up the rest of the bed. One long arm drapes to the floor and the other is curled above his head so that Henry can press close.

They all look so peaceful.

It's all very sweet and intimate and if I didn't know better...

Shaking off the introspection, I distract myself with the welcome task of seeing what I can make for breakfast. It's fairly obvious that Emma has been living here alone because the bachelor status of the fridge and cupboard are downright cliché. So I call Red for reinforcements and set about doing what I can in the meantime.

 

++ Ruby ++

It's not long after David stops sawing wood and toddles over to smooch a giggling Snow, that there's a crash of a heavy body from upstairs. Before any of us can react, Henry's laughter sets our minds at ease. The happy sound is a real relief after yesterday.

"Fell out of bed?" I can't resist asking around my giggling and the happy couple just shake their heads. After a moment of footfalls of various weights, Henry comes galloping downstairs and I have to wonder where Regina is.

"Hi, guys," the boy greets us, looking both normal and haunted, the scratches from flying glass livid on his skin. "Can I get a cup of coffee for Emma? He's guarding the bathroom door for Mom. She's still pretty freaked out."

Our evil queen? Freaked out?

Well, no matter what, I adore my pal, no matter what he/she looks like or does. So, I’ll bail him out this time. 

"Tell you what. Henry, you sit down for some of Snow's good cooking and I’ll go take Emma's place. There's nothing that can easily sneak past me, right?"

He looks conflicted, but there's no doubt the yummy smells from the kitchen are a powerful draw. James hands over a mug of black coffee and I head upstairs, wondering at the pair of voices talking quietly up there. Is that Regina's chuckle? I'm quite sure I have never heard her laugh, not ever. The bad guys don't do that sort of thing.

Emma is crouched by a box, holding out a handful of fabric that Regina is clearly conflicted about. "Hey, they're clean," he teases and they freeze when they notice me. 

"Morning. I have coffee and an offer. You go eat, Em, and I’ll stand guard while you shower, Regina. So this cup is yours."

It's so very clear that neither knows exactly what to say... or do. Both of them stubborn and independent and wounded and confused. A rather amusing riot of emotion races over Regina's face, finally settling on a moue of what almost looks like distaste. "Thank you," she whispers hoarsely and I realize that her conflict is not about me, but herself.

Interesting.

So I shoo a befuddled Emma off and park my butt at the top of the stairs to do a task once unimaginable.

Watch Regina's back.

 

++ Regina ++

The miniscule shower crammed into the cramped bathroom would normally feel suffocating, but oddly, the very smallness of it is a comfort after the shocks of late. With ugly wallpaper, cheap shampoo smelling of lemons, a washcloth as rough as the towels, it's like a cheap hotel. Or what I imagine a cheap hotel would be like, had I ever been in one. Does Emma really not care? Or is her... his standards so low? The sheriff's pay isn't bad, I know, so why still live as though he can just… go?

Is this truly all he's ever known? Is this what being rootless is? Just settling, no aspirations or wanting anything better? My curse, something that has come to hurt me far worse than anyone I ever hated, did this to him. Made rough, threadbare washcloths something acceptable.

Like the life I forced Snow to leave that innocent baby to.

It takes a moment to realize the burn in my eyes is not the shampoo.

Shaken by the paradigm shift happening even now, I shakily wash up more thoroughly than last night's efforts when...

I can't even think about that now, I just can't.

With shaking hands, I dry off, coiling one of the towels around my skull to wick at my thick hair, and finger the clothing given me. The snug workout pants and soft t-shirt are like the towels, inexpensive, worn with time and wear, more proof of a life of little. Too little of everything it seems. Perpetuated by me and my obsessive hate. And yet... here I am in his care, despite everything I have done.

Covered in what had been Emma's clothes before magic twisted her/his life again, I step out, startling at Ruby contorted lithely at the top of the stairs, toying with her phone and humming to herself. I had forgotten she was here...

"Better?" the werewolf smiles. "Breakfast is up. Come on."

I'm too raw to be among enemies, still on the verge of hysterical tears, feeling emotionally flayed raw and bloody. Yet, I follow Ruby down the steps, knees and hands shaking like a terrified cur hoping for scraps and not the lash...

Snow hands a plate to David, who gestures to the couch and wordlessly hands over scrambled eggs and toast and a bowl of diced fruit. It does smell good...

Ruby refills my retrieved coffee mug with waitress efficiency, the whole gaggle of them talking quietly and leaving me to my frayed quiet on the couch. There is something so strangely normal and almost comforting about this.

When I had been a girl, the kitchen with the servants had been a favored spot, surrounded by their very normalcy. Only later in life, my evil and hate consuming me like a fever, did I learn to sneer at those beneath me. And everyone was beneath me.

The slow tears are burning hot on my cheeks, but I force myself to eat every morsel on the plain white plate. It's the only apology I have in this moment for everyone who had ever been slighted or hurt by my insane family.

 

++ Snow ++

This is a new Regina, this wounded, timid creature curled up on the far end of the couch, her plate tucked up between chest and thighs, doggedly working her way through the simple fare. It's an obvious effort, every swallow visibly difficulty, her face wet with tears.

My great enemy, shattered.

But like having her chained to the pillory, arrows whizzing towards her with deadly intent, there is no triumph in this win. There is no win here. As she has always done, Regina tugs at my compassion, my will to keep trying.

After finishing his own meal, Emma jumps up to rush off and quickly return with the first aid kit. It's yet another indication how wrecked Regina is that she sits passively and allows him to doctor her many cuts, even leaning forward so that he can get to her back.

I can't stop the worried look I share with Ruby, who snatches up Regina's still mostly full coffee mug and comes to the kitchen. With quick motions, she chucks the coffee down the sink, adds fresh brew, some of the thick, sweet creamer I like and snatches up the bottle of Jack Daniel's that Emma leaves in the corner of the kitchen shelves. That should be good medicine, the hefty shot melting down some of the choking fear and grief.

When she expertly whips up hot chocolate for Henry and dribbles in just a bare splash of the Jack, I almost object, but hold my tongue. It will ease some of the tension in the child and the small amount of liquor will cause no harm. 

"Drink," Ruby prods quietly, actually taking Regina's hands to wrap them around the mug. "Please."

Henry makes an odd face at his hot chocolate, but Ruby scoffs it off and smiles winningly and tells him to just drink up. I leave off hovering in the kitchen and pull out a deck of playing cards to entertain him. I haven't had enough of a chance to really absorb that he is not just a favored pupil of my Mary Margaret self, but my grandson as well. Honestly, I haven't even been able to absorb that the broody, worried man seated next to him is my long-lost daughter, grown into a peer in this harsh world.

"Here, Henry, let me teach you a game. It's called 'Catch the Raven'. See, you want to match up pairs..."

He starts to relax and learn the simple card game we would pass time with during the long, drawn out wars against many enemies, including the quiet woman on the couch, a shadow of her former, larger-than-life self. 

It's good to see some color back in Regina’s pale cheeks, her eyes not quite so dilated and far away.

I will take whatever positive sign I can get for and from the woman. I have spent lifetimes doing just this, never being the sort to give up.

 

++ Emma ++

I'd fully intended on sticking to the apartment like a bad cold because me and the Mills need the recovery space. And I would have too, if I hadn't gotten a call from Whale.

Hook is awake.

With a quick hug for Henry and a heavy hand on Regina's shoulder, I’m out the door like a shot and racing for the hospital. At some point I’m going to need to take the time to relearn to drive a car, but all this running and jogging is sure keeping all the new muscle mass fit!

At the hospital, it turns out I’m moving faster than I thought and I careen off the sliding glass door. But I manage to keep my feet, so I still count it as a success and shrug off the ringing hit.

"Spineless jackals! I'll string up the lot of you and leave your guts hanging for the carrion birds!"

Sliding to a graceless halt with a heavy grip on the doorjamb, I have to chuckle at the spectacle. Itty, bitty girlie Captain Hook has the entire staff completely flummoxed. She's straining against the bonds, the soft wrapping on the stumpy arm half undone already and the handcuff chiming against the bedrail.

My slow applause brings every eye to me.

"Bravo, captain. A ringing performance. Are you done?"

"You," she snarls with real menace and I refrain from smirking at her helplessness.

"That woman," Whale huffs in an outrage, making the word sound like an insult. "Is insane."

As I step over, I note that the doc is standing rather crookedly and one of the burly interns is moaning on the floor. My scathing look shuts the skeevy doctor up. "If I woke up chained to the bed with you standing over me, I’d have done my damnedest to kick the crap out of you, too."

Utterly ignoring his outrage, I turn my attention to my curse-mate. 

"Welcome to Storybrooke. While no one in this town is sorry to see Mr. Gold go, that's Rumpelstiltskin to you, it's quite obvious that you are too dangerous to just let run loose." Cunning blue eyes do their damnedest to drill a hole into my brain, but I’m not intimidated. I've faced worse and scarier than Captain Hook, no matter what he or she looks like. "If you're relatively healthy, I’ll be carting you off to jail now."

"Marvelous," she sneers, but I can see the wisps of fear in the bright eyes, no matter hard she tries to cover it up. "You've no authority, or honor!"

With no temper, but some irritation, I lash out to press Hook to the bed with a big hand over her heart.

"I am the elected law enforcement in this town, loudmouth. And just two days ago, with Regina's invaluable help I might add, I defeated Cora by removing her heart with this same hand and she turned to dust. You, on the other hand, driven on by blind revenge, killed the only man who might have been able to figure out how to change us back. So, I suggest you shut the hell up."

 

++ David ++

Startled at Emma's deadly serious tone, I watch as the slim woman who is Captain Hook stops fighting, her expression surly and thoughtful. Satisfied, Emma starts grilling Doctor Whale, who is finally being respectful of his authority. Good, he'll be ready to take the badge back soon. It has never been mine to have in this world.

A plastic bag of effects is brought out and handed over, Hook's eyes following it hungrily. 

"Hey David," Emma greets me with a wan smile. "Got the keys for the crazy lady here? I'm trying to come up with a way to keep her restrained. I'd rather not end up like the gorilla on the floor."

"I will wreak no more physical abuse on the denizens of your hamlet," Hook sighs before glaring at Whale. "For now. I understand that physical restraint is a necessity, and it is not in my best interests to alienate you at this time."

"Fair enough," Emma agrees cheerfully and holds out a hand for the key, which I hand over. "Trust me, Hook, there's plenty about this town that you won't want to run from anyway. Let's get you settled in and we'll get you up to speed tomorrow."

In a surprisingly dexterous maneuver, Emma releases the cuff on the bedrail and ratchets it shut around his own wrist. I finish loosening the wrappings holding the left arm and Hook can finally sit up with a groan.

"Stiff I’ll bet." Blue eyes regard me frankly and I smile while gesturing at myself. "Prince James, but call me David. I'm Snow White's husband."

The sharp gaze flickers to Emma. 

"Your father."

"Yes."

She wavers alarmingly once on her feet, but manages the task. Emma gets some second hand clothing from the staff and drags the prisoner to a nearby restroom.

"Please. Like you have anything I haven't seen before," Emma snorts to some exchange I can't see or hear from here.

On that note, I wait for a few minutes for Hook to get into pants and shoes and drape a warm blanket around her when they emerge. She mumbles a thank you and goes with us docilely enough, just as promised. But the pale eyes never stop taking everything in.

"Ugh, David," Emma sneers at his beat up yellow car. "Are you really still driving that for sheriff business?"

"Hey, just keeping with tradition. Have fun cramming yourself into the back of the thing."

"You're finding this far too funny."

"Obviously."

 

++ Henry ++

(11-14-12)

Home looks... weird now.

And scary.

Some of the windows have new glass in them, though they're just big panes now, missing the decorative grid, but most of them are still boarded up. At least the front door has been replaced.

"That's the ugliest brown I’ve ever seen," I have to comment, hoping I can get Mom to smile a bit. She looks like a deer in the headlights, being here. It kinda works, as she blinks back from whatever ugly place her mind was there for a moment. Emma puts a big hand on my neck and the other on Mom's back to give us a gentle push.

"C'mon you. It's better inside. Generally speaking anyway."

There are places where the grass is torn up and some of the shrubs broken. It makes the yard look kinda... normal. I like it. Like Mom is now, this messed up version is more approachable because she's not trying so hard to be perfect.

At the ugly door, Mom jumps a little when Emma reaches over me to shove a key in the lock. I dunno why, but I’ve gotten used to my birth mother being this big man now. I was only startled that first night he watched over us, because my nightmares were freaking me out. 

"New lock," he explains. "And we'll get it painted a better color when the weather warms up. You're probably stuck with it until then."

Inside, it's dark and none of us move for a long moment.

"Some of the light fixtures need replacing. But the stark basics are intact. Come on, no one is here."

With that gentle encouragement, I step forward, tugging on Mom's hand until she slowly follows. The foyer is almost unrecognizable from all the damage. 

"Wow."

Mom nods in agreement.

The wall Emma crashed through has been opened up to be big enough for two doors, the edges cleaned up so they're nice and straight. If there weren't the wall's two by fours showing at the cut edges, it would almost look like it was supposed to be this way. The guest bed in there is stripped and one of the bedstands is missing, along with the lamp that used to sit on it. 

The hardwood floors and the walls are all scarred up and the big couch in the living room is gone, along with pretty much anything small enough to be carried out. It doesn't even look like anyone lives here anymore.

It's really freaky.

 

++ Emma ++

Maybe this is too soon. The place is banged up and looks deserted.

"Umm, everything damaged was hauled off and your stuff is in boxes until the glass can be cleaned off it. The stuff was everywhere. I hope your beds are safe. There must have been a good half dozen shop vacs in here wailing away yesterday."

I'm not helping, as I can see Henry sidle closer to Regina, both of his hands now clinging to hers. Regina, for her part, is trembling like a leaf. When I was here before, all I saw was the mess cleaned up. I didn't see how the traces of their lives here have been almost eradicated.

God, I’m a clod sometimes.

"Hey," I say far too loudly, making all three of us jump and they turn wide eyes on me. "Sorry about that. Listen, this place is drafty as hell right now and there could still be glass anywhere. Come stay with me. Both of you." Henry seems thrilled, but Regina is too shocked to speak, though her mouth opens and the raven brows start drawing together. "Listen, we have a crap-ton of problems to sort out, past, present and future, I know. But I’m not bailing on you two now. My place is cozy and a few days will give us some time to do a better clean up and get you back in here, okay?"

Oh, how she wants an out. As closed up and manipulative as she was when I met her is as vulnerable and open as she is now. After a long moment, she swallows hard and steels herself.

"Where's the vacuum cleaner?"

So, we spend the day scrubbing and sorting and being quietly industrious. There's little chatting, but that's okay. All three of us are still feeling the strain of what happened here and it's far more exhausting then the actual effort of the cleaning.

When I finally herd them out into the gathering dusk, even Regina can barely dredge up more than a token resistance. At least this time she'll be happier with some of her own clothes and a few things from her bathroom. Their thankfully closed up closets were one of the few places where there are no glass shards

"What do you two want to do for dinner? I'll have to see what I can scrounge up, or we can go see Granny and Ruby if you want."

"I'll cook."

Startled, I look down where Regina is walking on Henry's other side. She has that expression on her face again, the one that says she's spoken without input from her usual control-freak issues. This facet of her is much more likable. Who knew? 

"That'd be great. Ruby brought over some supplies, but is there anything you might need?"

And that is how I find myself shopping with the Mills once more. The grocery store is good neutral territory, all parties equal when browsing veggies and canned goods. 

"Hey, I’ve been wondering something," I hear myself ask as I fondle a box of granola bars. "Since no one can get into this town, where the hell do the deliveries come from?"

"I have no idea," Regina shrugs uncomfortably. "It was built into the curse. I never examined it too closely." She's staring at a box of cereal like it holds the answers to the universe. "There are many things I have never examined to closely."

Not much to say to that.

 

++ Hook ++

(11-15-12)

In the two days that have passed since my waking, I have absorbed much about this new land. David has been surprisingly forthcoming with information about this place and filling in the gaps of my knowledge of how all of this came to pass.

Once more, Regina has not gotten what she wanted. Ironic that. The fact that Emma Swan was the foil? It would be delicious if I could muster the energy to care.

But at least Cora and Rumpelstiltskin are gone.

The triumph is echoingly hollow. Depressingly so. All these years I’ve rushed forward heedlessly, mindless with revenge for my beloved Milah. Now there is nothing left but the emptiness. Even my own body is no longer mine. This scrawny slip of a woman's body that I can barely control and have little understanding of. And to think I believed I knew much of the fairer sex.

Ha.

With a rattle of sound out of sight-- where I know the main door is-- heavy footfalls enter, but they are not David's. The smell of food arrives with a blast of chilly wind and the dwarf assigned to 'guard' me wakes with a start.

"Jeezus, Leroy, why are you here again?"

"Sorry Emma. These all-nighters suck. Is that coffee?"

"Like I’m gonna show up without it. Mornin', Hook. Sleep well?"

"Good morning, Sheriff."

There are subtle shifts in his body language. Now, I have not spent much time in Emma Swan's presence, not as a woman and certainly not transformed like this, but I am a very good judge of character and motivation. It's how my sort stays alive. This is a man both more at ease and so tense he looks like he could chew nails.

Interesting.

While Emma and Leroy exchange farewells, a small table is brusquely shoved up against the bars of my cage. Dropping into the wheeled chair at nearby desk, Emma slides over and deposits a greasy bag, a pink box and two of the flimsy paper cups I’ve become acquainted with.

"Eat what you want, I have plenty."

"Thank you."

Reaching through the bars with my one hand, I peruse the bag, finding a sliced roll containing eggs and cheese that will suffice. Emma takes a great bite of some decadent pastry and sprawls arrogantly in his chair.

"So, this little town isn't set up for long term bad guy storage. Got any idea what we should do about that?"

I really must remember to not underestimate Emma Swan.

 

++ Henry ++

(11-16-12)

It's really strange living in two places. Or living in one and cleaning the other. So much of our stuff was totally ruined, and I can tell that it's really freaking Mom out. Don't get me wrong, I don't like that I lost stuff either, but stuff can be replaced. My mom can't. Doesn't matter anymore that she was the Evil Queen that did all that bad stuff. I mean, it does matter because she did it, but that's not who she is anymore. I can see it, and Emma can see it. I think even Gramps sees it now, ever since that whole weird situation with Daniel in the stables. I know Mom's trying, and I know it's hard on her. Me being such a jerk has not helped her at all, and I feel bad about that. She looks so haunted and scared so much now, especially when we walk into this house that I grew up in.

Emma's been working on getting stuff done at all hours, so we can come home again. No, he hasn't been able to do it much himself, because he really doesn't seem to want to leave us alone, but he's been coordinating with Gramps and Marco about getting things fixed up as much as anyone can. They've really rallied with everyone in town to work on it. The dwarves and Marco have been here every single day. Gramma said last night that the fairies have been doing what they can to help clean up the glass from our personal things. Mom doesn't know about that yet, and I'm not sure she should, ever. She doesn't really like the fairies much, especially Blue.

"Hey, kid," Emma says, startling me out of the thoughts I've been having while watching Marco and Gramps try to hang the French doors into the guest room where Cora punched a hole through the wall with Emma's body. "We're just waiting to finish up the doors after Marco sands them one last time, then we'll hit the road. David said Ruby'll drop off something for dinner when we get back to the apartment. You got everything you need for tonight and for school tomorrow?"

"Yeah, Gramma said she was doing laundry today, so I'll have my uniform clean for tomorrow. And I did my homework on Friday. Mom's rules." Realizing something, I pause and look around. "Emma? Where's Mom?"

He looks around, eyebrows scrunching up in confusion and worry. "I don't know," he says slowly. I can see the worry in his eyes. Mom hasn't really wandered off away from us at all since everything happened. "You stay here and help with the doors while I go look for her, okay?"

"Emma, I'm not a baby. I'll help you."

Before he can say anything, I jump up from my spot and head for the kitchen, an idea already forming in my head. I can hear him calling after me, but ignore him. Cora's gone, Rumplestiltskin's gone, Hook's under guard. So it's safe now, right? The back door door into the backyard and out to the garage is cracked open a little bit, and I think my guess is right. Racing over, I quietly open the door and step out, trotting along the back of the house until I'm at the corner under her bedroom upstairs. Across the side yard from me is the apple tree that is Mom's pride and joy. I've never heard the full story of the tree, but I've figured that it's her only real link to her old life that could grow well and be almost perfect. It's always been a beautiful tree and made fruit all year long, which I guess is odd now that I think about it. Maybe someday Mom will tell me the whole story, because the book Gramma gave me sure didn't.

"Henry!" Emma's voice is soft, but urgent, and I don't want him to give us away. So I turn and quietly run back along the house and motion for him to be quiet. There must be something in my face that alerts him, because he does it right away, but with a really stern look on his face that Mom usually gets when I know I'm going to get in trouble.

I hold my finger to my lips and tiptoe back out, knowing he'll follow me. We stand there in the damp grass and look over at the tree. Mom's kneeling next to it, crying and tugging at pieces of glass that got embedded in the trunk. She's all covered in dirt and grass stains, and what might be blood on her hands and streaked across her cheeks with the tears. There's a pretty big pile of glass in front of her, all different sized pieces from what I can see, but it also looks like she's mostly done. Her whole body is shaking and she's kind of rocking back and forth. It might be because she's trying to pull out the glass, but I don't think so. She suddenly jerks back with a cry, clutching one wrist tightly in her other hand, and I can see the blood welling up all dark and icky in her palm.

"Ah damn," I hear Emma mutter as I take off for Mom.


	9. Tortured Release

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Things are going to finally start getting adult here, be warned! :)

++ Emma ++

Being careful of the glass still all over the yard, not to mention the pile next to her, I make my way over to crouch next to the Mills, where Henry has already pulled off his sweatshirt to press against the cut on Regina's hand. The movement clearly startles her, because she gasps, but he doesn't let up. By the determined look on his face, he's not going to either.

"Henry?"

Feeling utterly helpless, I have no idea what to do, but Henry keeps pragmatically moving the sweatshirt, mopping up the oozing blood. Both of them startle when I reach around him to take a look at the wound in the cold moonlight. Hardly a surprise as I haven't been this quiet moving around since I came back, so the fact that I was able to sneak up on them is a big deal.

"Kid, go inside and get the first aid kit and some paper towels, okay?" I speak quietly, putting all the reassurance I can muster into my voice. "And don't say anything to your grandfather."

Nodding, he gets up and runs back to the house to grab what I've asked for. That leaves me with the shattered Regina. Great. So, hunching down in my crouch over the nasty shards of glass, I carefully tuck her body closer to mine, hoping I'm more protective than domineering. 

"We've got to stop meeting like this," I stab lamely at humor and she makes some sort of strangled noise, but sinks into the heat of my larger body. Rather than continue teasing and possibly screw up the fragile moment, I stroke her wrist, wishing there was something I could do for her.

"Y'know, I get the therapy of getting this shit out of your tree, but next time, you'll have to do this in daylight."

Not quite the right thing to say, as the normally strong and composed woman breathes hard and shallow with the tears I can just see on her cheeks. There won't be a next time. Ever again. I made sure of that. Creeped out suddenly, I look at where I cradle Regina's bloody hand so gently in the palm of my own hand, the one that took her mother's life.

It's a real relief when Henry returns, tugging his mom's head over to his shoulder so that I can tend to the mundane issue of her wound.

"It's gonna be okay, Mom," he whispers, making my heart ache for them both and squeezing Regina's shoulder when she winces from my clumsy cleaning up.

"It looks pretty shallow," I note with relief, "so we're lucky there. It's not in an easy place to let heal, but..."

"You could use magic to fix it, Mom," Henry says suddenly, startling both of us grownups.

"No!" Regina is quick to refuse, pulling away to stare at him. "If this is some trick you two have cooked up to make me go back on my word, it won't work. It's bad enough that..." Her voice trails off as memories clearly choke her

Recognizing a volatile situation when I see it, I gather up Regina's compact body and head back to the door to the kitchen. "I'm calling the day, Mills clan. Let's get you two mopped off and we're headed back to the apartment for some R and R."

Neither makes a peep as I set Regina on her own kitchen counter and grab more paper towels. Mopping off the fresh cuts on her knees, I check to see she has no glass embedded in her skin, bending to examine the little marks closely. At least my confusing attractions stay quiet in the serious setting and miraculously, the others working in the house leave us alone. Henry finishes putting everything away and brings me the trashcan to chuck out the blood-smeared paper towels. Straightening up, I hook a finger under Regina's chin, I try to catch the restless, miserable brown eyes.

"Hey, I admire you sticking to your guns, okay? Now, you tell me if any of those wounds starts to hurt so that we don't have to deal with something as mundane as an infection. Shall we?"

With my big meathooks on her elbows, I get Regina settled on her own two feet and gently herd the Mills out the front door. Marco and David nod in silent acknowledgment and the later follows me out to drive us back to the apartment. Settling Regina into the backseat of her own car, I gently close the door and startle to find Henry at my elbow, his expression miserable.

"I didn't mean it to sound like..."

Hugging him to my torso, I stroke the brown hair. "She's as out of her element here as we all are, Henry and she really, really wants to be good for you. You guys are figuring this out as we all go along, okay? Be patient, because there's gonna be screwups from all of us. I think she gets what you were trying to do, but she was serious. She's having enough guilt already over using magic to try to save you from Cora. But she'll be okay. We're all gonna be okay. Now, hop in, give her a hug and lets get out of here."

Squeezing me hard, he nods against my chest and murmurs, "Okay. Thanks, Emma."

"My pleasure."

When I catch David's eye, startled at his forgotten presence, he smiles warmly, a benediction that means more to me than I ever thought it would.

 

++ Snow ++

When they came home after so much time over at the mansion, there was a dark ache settled around them, especially Regina. It's still a very strange sensation to have her in this space what was my home for so long. I'm torn between remembering that beautiful young woman who saved me from my runaway horse and the evil queen that replaced her practically whole cloth. All the chances I'd given her back then, all wasted, but I never could stop. Seeing Cora again when we were in the Enchanted Forest brought back so many conflicting memories and feelings about my convoluted family. And, try as she might, Regina is still a part of my family. If I couldn't stop it back then, when she was actively trying to kill me and everyone else I loved dearly, I certainly can't stop it now. Especially when she looks so damned haunted and lost, like she has ever since Emma ended Cora's life for good. Oh, I'm sure we'll still be dealing with the fallout of Cora's sadistic rule over Regina's life for a good long while, but any step on the path toward healing is a good step in my book.

I wish I could say I was surprised when Emma pulled first David, then me, aside to make his request while Regina showered before dinner. He made us both swear to keep it from Henry and, particularly, Regina. Like either of us would refuse at this point in the game. I'm still not comfortable with how close they're becoming, but it's better than rampant animosity that only tears poor Henry apart. Plus, I can't in good conscience let Regina suffer alone right now. When I look back at how she was in the aftermath of what I now know was Daniel's death, I can only blame childhood enthusiasm and love for my lack of seeing just how badly she was suffering. Oh, she covered it well-- too well-- for a long enough time that I didn't see it coming when the evil overwhelmed and consumed her. Hindsight and all. But now, she's not even bothering to cover her devastation. Clearly, she's had too many near-fatal blows to her psyche to be able to recover easily.

And so here I sit, deep into the wee hours of morning, watching over the sleeping Henry and Regina while Emma and David are pulling an all-nighter at the mansion in an attempt to get the place livable again. The look on Emma's face when he mentioned how devastated Regina had been upon seeing it again today brought tears to my eyes. With David and I here at the apartment so much, it's almost like having five people living here and that can't continue long-term. Regina especially needs some stability and familiarity and she just can't get that here. I don't know that she's up to facing that mansion right now, not until they've completely repaired it and she's had time to process Cora's death, but I certainly can't force her to stay here.

"No."

The word is softly moaned, almost sighed, but it pulls me from my thoughts without delay. My eyes immediately go to Henry's face, so cherubic and stress-free in sleep, but he makes no further noise other than a soft snore. Not my grandson then, which means…

"Mama, please…"

Oh no, please no. I don't know that I can do this. Henry's nightmares I can handle; I understand them because of the Sleeping Curse. But please, not Regina. She's always been such a painfully private person, and if she wakes up and finds me here, she could completely lose her grip. No one wants that.

"I'll be good, Mama."

I shouldn't get involved, but when have I ever gone the easy or obvious route with Regina? With real hesitation, I reach out to stroke the thick, dark hair and muster up my most soothing voice. "Shh, you're okay, Regina. It's just a dream."

She whimpers softly, flinching from my touch. Biting my lower lip, I brutally resist the tears that want to come, unable to even imagine the atrocities Regina must have suffered at her mother's hands. When I was a girl, I thought Cora was scary, but still a loving mother who only wanted the best for her daughter. It wasn't until the day I willingly succumbed to the Sleeping Curse that I truly began to learn what she was like. Regina will probably never know that what I thought of most while in that death-that-wasn't-death was my relationship with her. Yes, I thought of James and the life we could have had. Yes, I thought of my parents and how much I missed them. But mostly I thought about this woman now trembling in my arms; this woman who was never what she appeared to be, good or bad.

Regina flinches again, arching hard enough to nearly wake Henry. A grimace of pain etches into the haggard features, tears slipping down her cheeks, and yet she still sleeps on, locked in her terrible nightmare. The thought that Cora would inflict such terror on her daughter causes a surge of rage and anger in me, and I wish that the woman was still alive so I could kill her myself to show Regina that she's not alone in this.

"You're okay, Mom." Henry's soft, sleepy voice startles me. "We're here and she can't hurt you anymore."

With the gracelessness of a boy on the cusp of puberty and growth spurts, he wiggles around to wrap up the mother who was all he had for so long. Ease instantly rushes over Regina's body as her body instinctively presses closer, her arms looping loosely around him.

"She's having Cora nightmares again, Gramma. It's all she ever has now. She and Emma don't think I know, but I do. They don't think I can do anything to help her, but if this is all I can do, then it's what I'm gonna do. Because she's my mom and she deserves to win, just once."

There's nothing I can say to refute his truthful words. Even as a part of me rails against the idea of the dark side of Regina ever actually winning, I know that even her victories in the past have been hollow. Including this reality we've lived in for nearly thirty years now. How can she rehabilitate if we don't allow her the opportunity to have something that gives her hope and the impetus to do so?

"You're right, Henry," I reply softly and press a kiss to his temple. "She absolutely deserves it."

 

++ Regina ++

(11-17-12)

It has been a quiet and disarming day, started with me waking up to stare at Snow's face so close to my own. Only Henry's calming presence between us stopped me from having a good scream at my former step-daughter for invading my personal space. No, it wasn't only his presence, but it was the only thing I'm comfortable contemplating even now about the whole situation. The constant, wrenching push and pull in my tattered soul over how to behave around Snow in particular is exhausting.

Dinner had been a surprisingly normal affair, despite the insanity of the last few days. Despite the livid cuts and bruises, despite Emma's being so exhausted he's glassy-eyed, despite what happened here and despite the screaming hysteria that claws at my throat every moment, a surprisingly normal affair.

All is quiet now and a reluctant serenity has settled over me and this tortured home. Of course, that could also be the two glasses of strong red Merlot that hum in my veins, forcing calm over my brittle stress. It's good to be able to breathe deeply once again, like I may be able to sleep here with some semblance of peace.

Heavy footfalls return Emma to my presence and he pauses at the bottom of the steps to rub his face and scalp. He is so very weary, it's written all over his body, but he is also jittery, as though he has been living off of caffeine and sheer willpower. Unbidden, my gaze travels hotly over that magnificent physique, the powerful muscles beneath the snug shirt and the ubiquitous hunting pants.

"Have you been taking care of yourself?"

We both are taken aback at my question, the expressive green eyes Henry inherited swinging over to me, his expression curious.

"You've," I pause, looking for the right words, "needs now, that you most likely did not feel so keenly before."

Emma Swan, despite my earlier animosity towards the woman this man once was, is not stupid, he is just very clueless or deliberately ignorant of some of the more obvious... needs he clearly has. Frankly, he clearly is not dealing with hormonal urges that this virile new body has now. Warm with wine and the feeling of safety he brings me, I ignore logic and prudence and any sort of common sense and uncoil from the couch to sashay over. The green eyes are glued to the performance, causing me to preen internally and smile. A gesture gets him moving and we move side by side towards the front door, some new, enticing energy thick between us. 

At the door, one index finger in the middle of his chest stops Emma in his tracks, eyes wide, and he lets me crowd him up against the wall, no matter that I am tiny in comparison. That hand flattens over his strong heart, caressing over the warmth of his skin, watching my own touch trail down his torso, delighting in the visceral feel of his subtle squirming. The royal I once was would have just taken him back in the heights of my cruel reign, but now I ask, with my gentle hand and the clear interest in my body and eyes.

The loose waistband of his size-too-big trousers is no impediment to my explorations and he makes a high-pitched animal sound as my fingers and palm slide over his taut abdomen to the deep heat of the masculine shaft that lately seems to constantly be bothering him at half-mast. Like a separate entity, it jerks and swells eagerly, such clear need in his painfully tense body.

"Shhhh," I hiss softly, stepping in closer, just close enough for our bodies to touch, unable to bear the intensity of his startled eyes one moment longer, willing him to trust me.

 

++ Emma ++

Whatever the hell I had expected when she'd graciously walked me to the door, this hadn't been it and I'm too startled to do more than make an undignified sound and sag against the wall.

For weeks now, I have fought being in this strange body and all of its weird needs. Waking and sleeping and bathing and using the toilet and just being around others has been hell. 

Regina's plainly stated curiosity about whether or not I’ve been taking care of my base needs left me speechless. Her answer to her own question has left me breathless. 

From the moment I crawled from that damn well, I haven't been able to not notice how attractive this woman is. Pretty much living with her these last few days hasn't helped any. Like an iron filing to a magnet, I cannot seem to resist her draw and the press of her body to mine nearly sends me to my knees. Every bit as soft as she appears, but steely underneath, she fits to me well, breath hot over my collarbone where she rests her forehead high on my shoulder.

That elegant hand is gentle and caressing, curling around the constant hormonal ache of the shaft between my legs I haven't grown any more comfortable with. She explores what I have been to chickenshit to do myself. The inelegant sighing grunt that whooshes out of me adds to the dizzying sensations spiraling along my nervous system and my hands come up with a mind of their own.

Because I sure don't have a functioning brain right now.

Gripping Regina's upper arm, I can feel her free hand on my side, just resting there above my waist. The other I shakily have on her shoulder, feeling the muscles and tendons move as she explores. Warm and soft, her hand coaxes at the constant half-ready ache in my pants and, like the damn thing really does have a mind of its own, my new equipment quickly hardens up, stiff and sensitive and actually kinda painful.

"I appreciate the good care you've taken of me," she whispers, eyes on the wall behind me. "But you have to take care of yourself too."

It's gotten hard before, anxious and sensitive, but I just haven't been able to take care of business. So far it's gone away on its own, but leaves me feeling achy and little sick to my stomach. I've avoided how good I just knew this would feel, the warm slide of palm and fingers along the hardened length.

Oh... my... god...

"Shhhhhh," she hisses again, not really a word, but a calming, animal noise to soothe my panic. The strong grip of her hand around that foreign part of me makes my whole nervous system roar in reaction.

 

++ Regina ++

I found myself with a voyeuristic streak once I learned how to peek through magically manipulated mirrors. There was something so wicked and titillating about watching others at their mundane little lives, doing things to make the kingdom I'd killed for run smoothly. So much of it was numbingly boring, for I'd always been a royal and had little understanding of what efforts it really took to keep a society running, but like channel surfing, I would find fascinating little views into other's lives. 

And for a prudish, medieval society, I was given an eyeful more often than not.

Some of my favorite were the soldiers, my own minions in their dark armor, their wills mostly subsumed to mine, the enemy when I could find their encampments and cooking fires. Almost entirely strong, virile men, the troops had little hesitation burning off excess energy in any way they could. Oh, certainly they would spar and drink and trade stories, but in the shadows, they would often fall to more carnal pursuits. 

Those memories dance in my head as I stroke Emma's rigid need, enjoying having this big man so completely under my spell in these stolen moments. There is a very real part of me that would love to do more than this quick and dirty act, to strip him and find out exactly what this delicious body is capable of...

Like a bucket of cold water, sudden memories of Graham flood my brain.

I've done my best to avoid the comparisons, but they haunt me. I'd had my reasons to turn the Huntsman into my puppet and to then keep his strings tethered once we came to this world, but like all of the other horrible things I did in the depths of my hate and insanity, I feel only regret now.

My own ardor calmed, I focus on Emma's pleasure, assuming that the effort of bringing him to completion will not take an inordinate amount of effort. Big hands flexing into my waist and shoulder, he whimpers, hips jerking, he breathes hot and fast against my scalp and the guttural, animalistic sounds low in his throat makes me run hot and cold.

Oh, how delightful he would be as a lover.

Stop it Regina. He is not yours to have.

Despite the intimacy of my touch on him, this is merely a thank you for his kindness, a way to break down a last barrier the woman he once was with the man she has become. Moaning and whimpering hits with the climax that ripples over his body, and the growl deep in his chest is a sound I will not soon forget.

Ignoring the mess, I retrieve my overheated hand and step away to tug him on shaky legs to the door and very gently nudge him out.

"Goodnight, Emma," I whisper hoarsely, wracked with my own mixed emotions and boiling hormones, and quietly close the door to lean against the sturdy wooden surface and try to regain some equilibrium. I fear I have crossed a border I should have left well alone, no matter my good intentions.

I do have a habit of doing that.

 

++ Emma ++

Winded and stunned, I stand in the late fall chill until a sharp shiver burns through the haze. Holy shit! Did that really just happen? The lassitude and oversensitive nerves say yes. Shakily yanking on the luxurious jacket she gifted me, I can't get my mind away from Regina. What the hell had that been? No warning, just that elegant hand...

"Oh, hell no."

That damn monster in my pants has twitched to life again, just thinking about that enigmatic and gorgeous woman who just... helped me out. If I didn't feel a ton better, I might be more embarrassed, but clearly the sharp, hard, messy orgasm had been therapeutic as hell.

A strangled gurgle of laughter makes me shake my head as I rub my face. What sort of thank you gift do you give someone after something like that? Don't know that a bottle of wine will do it.

The fantasy insinuates itself into my head before I can stop it. A bottle of wine, Regina and a warm fire, her body close and warm...

Shaking it off as best I can, I send calming thoughts to my nervous system, hoping I can get my damn dick to settle down.

There, I said it, even if only in the privacy of my own thoughts. The damn dick is mine and I have to learn to live with it. It's one of the last barriers to dealing with the changes the gold shackle did to me, and has been a sticking point, obviously.

Wonder how Hook's doing?

At least that thought brings some sexual calm and I can breathe slowly again. Gonna be a long walk home though, with my hormones simmering high. Better think about boring, mundane matters, sheriff business, Henry's grades, the hum of the vacuum cleaner in my ears for so many days at that house...

This is not going to be easy.

Thank goodness it's a chilly night and I can jog home-- my sensitized equipment jostling painfully-- without bumping into anyone. My luck holds when I find the place empty and dark and strangely cold.

And lonely.

What a wuss I’m turning into...

Feeling alone and melancholy, I trudge upstairs and take in my room. It's neater than I’ve ever kept it, even the bed carefully made. Whipping back the blankets and sheets, I flop down and toe off my shoes before stretching out. Any though of experimentation fades away as I find myself suddenly exhausted. Rolling over to wrap myself around a pillow, I let sleep rescue me from my confusion and stress for now.

Morning will come soon enough.

 

++ Snow ++

(11-18-12)

The apartment is quiet and dark and not a little cold when I step in.

"One of these days, you're going to startle him," David says and I refrain from snapping at him. I don't like everyone's casual acceptance of this... change that has happened to my daughter. We'd been growing closer when trapped back in the Enchanted Forest, until that had happened.

It scares me. Because it could have been me. If somehow I’d talked Emma into staying on the ground...

Shaking off the stress as best I can, I flick on the lights and head upstairs to check in on Emma. I can't separate the friend I was from the worrying mother I have never been able to be. Why is that so hard for everyone to accept?

The little bedside light is on past the open door, and the bathroom is closed up with a stripe of light bleeding out from underneath. Even as I wonder if I should knock and warn her... him, we're here, a sound carries through the paper thin wall.

Now, I’m an adult and a married woman, but still a bit of an innocent in many ways, I know this. But I know exactly what that sound is and no mother should ever hear their child make it. A stifled, throaty sound of pleasure that nearly sounds painful.

Somehow I get to the bottom of the stairs without breaking my neck.

Later, I’m going to be so mad at Charming for taking one look at me and his expression becomes exasperated and all too amused.

"How can you find this funny?"

Sighing, he grabs me in a hug that I struggle against. "Snow, you have to get used to the idea that your baby is basically your age and no child. And, I have no idea what it's like to be a woman, but I can attest that the strapping man that our daughter has become has been looking nearly sick with hormones since coming home. Probably since being transformed. Please don't embarrass him."

"Embarrass him?"

Several heavy thuds upstairs let me know that I’ve been too loud and Emma knows that we're here now. Even now I can quite clearly picture the wariness in the green eyes she... he inherited from me and it hurts.

So much time lost...

Will we ever find a way to be more than just friends? Can we ever be a real family?

 

++ Regina ++

(11-20-12)

"Come on, Mom. How will anyone believe you're one of the good guys if you don't get out there and do good?"

It's hard to argue the point, but I’m still dragging my feet and resisting the pull of his small hands on mine.

"Besides, I haven't seen Emma since we moved back home and I miss him!"

Luckily for me, I am facing the door, key in the deadbolt and I have a moment to school my expression into what I hope is something like neutrality. There is the real crux of the thing. That man. Things were so much simpler when Emma Swan had been a woman, easy to hate for so many reasons. Yet, I had grown to admire her too, even if she still drove me crazy. So difficult to predict and so impossible to control.

But now that I can no longer ignore how attractive this sex-changed version is... Now what do I do?

There's quite a crowd at the Sheriff Station, a festive group that quiets as I follow Henry over to join them. 

"We thought you could use some more hands," Henry offers winningly and I can only make an attempt to smile thinly. "Because things always work better with more hands."

Taking my hand, as though in example, he drags me further over and I find myself nearly nose to nose with my old nemesis. There's no bite to the familiar surge of negative feelings and it makes me pause in wonderment. How... odd that feels. Apparently, I really am going soft.

Sigh.

"What can I do to help?"

My voice is resigned and Snow seems mildly taken aback, a faint smile at the corner of her mouth. Before she can answer, the voice of the man I've been hoping to avoid carries through the chilly evening. 

"I think I'm set up over on that section of fence, but I'm not climbing that ladder. Hey Henry!" His delight is clear, but freezes and fades when he sees me. "Hi, Regina. Glad you guys could make it. How's the hand?"

And here it is. When I'd let myself succumb to the temptation of his body, I knew this meeting would be awkward at best.

But I know that I would do it again, given half a chance.


	10. Helping Hand

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For a mental image, Hook is 'played' by Jaime Murray of Werehouse 13 fame.

++ Emma ++

"Swan, can you at least pretend to be paying attention?"

She probably means to sound angry and bitchy and old-school evil-queen-mayor-who-needs-to-get-laid, --ugh, don't got there, Em-- but the thrum of amusement makes my goddamn ears start to burn. It's pathetic how little tolerance I have for teasing since being transformed into a male.

And if I thought everything sounded like sexual innuendo before...

Being this close to Regina is hell right now, because ever since... that happened, I’m a walking, paranoid livewire and her damn luscious body so close is making me stupid. The memories of her hand on me is not helping my sanity or concentration either. 'Cause while I’ve started getting used to this insidious, itchy attraction to women, it's still disconcerting as hell.

Especially this one.

No matter how a person might feel about Regina Mills, there is no denying that she is a spectacularly attractive woman. With all of the driving physical needs I still have trouble dealing with, and the insidious memories of her hand on the rising ache in my pants, she's as distracting to me as steak to a starving dog.

Resettling my hands on the aluminum ladder, I ignore the autumnal cold, tightening my grip until my knuckles ache as her warm flesh brushes over them. God, is she doing that on purpose? I know I shouldn’t look, I’ve been doggedly careful to keep my eyes away...

A glance ruins me.

Her coat has fallen open and I get an eyeful, way more close up than ever before, of the woman's magnificent rack. Round and full and perfectly presented inside another of the endless procession of well tailored shiny shirts, those breasts are something to behold. And... oh lord... something lacy peeking though that little gap between buttons as she reaches up to fiddle with the strings of lights we've been assigned to hang. How bizarrely quickly my sexual tastes have gone so... straight guy.

She smells good too, a subtle scent nearly hidden in the tang of fall and distant hot food and coffee. God, Emma, seriously, knock it the hell off. But I can't forget her intimate touch, the rush of wanton heat that was as painful as pleasurable. 

When I sway in, totally against my will, she startles at the touch of my body to hers. Alarm blasts over hormones and I lash out, grabbing her before she falls... and I’m lost. Those strong hands on my neck and shoulder, her startled breath in my face... those soft breasts pressed tight to my chest.

Stumbling back, there's a crunch of glass under my boot and I go down in a flailing tangle of clumsy legs and wildly windmilling arms. Man, am I sick of falling on my ass... or face. Thank all the holies Regina is smart enough to cling tight as a burr and, for possibly the first time, I’m glad for this big male body as she slams down atop me.

Regina is a small woman, but still half knocks the wind out of me, making me wheeze.

"Good catch," she compliments, a little out of breath as well and raises herself up onto her hands. Staring into startled, deep brown eyes, I have to struggle to remember how to breathe, much less talk.

"You're welcome," finally manages to squeak it's way past my tight throat, sounding distinctly not masculine. Amusement and something strangely approachable flashes though Regina's eyes.

"Are you all right?"

It's like my higher brain functions have fucked off to Bora Bora and all I can manage to get out is, "I think I stepped on the lights."

That slow, sexy, manipulative grin should not be nearly as enticing as it is on her lovely face.

"Need a replacement?" she asks softly, something in her tone doing things to my brain and body that should be illegal.

"Uhh..."

 

++ Regina ++

Oh, he is so adorably flustered! The green eyes that Henry inherited are wide and vulnerable, just like his fallen body is beneath me. It makes teasing him irresistible... until I sit up.

There's no denying his body's reaction to our closeness, the hard shaft of his new maleness a none too subtle torment that gives me a visceral thrill.

Would I take this further if given the chance? The flushed warmth on my cheeks says yes, no matter what my logical side might want.

Clearly discomposed, Emma tries to sit up, nearly cracking his skull into mine. Strong thighs raise up in counterbalance to press into my backside, quite effectively trapping me once more against his broad chest. For a brief moment I am distracted away from my arousal by the need to not be pummeled by his clumsiness.

Until he leans in close, really too close, and I both hear and feel the sandpaper-like rasp over my upper neck and the curve of my jaw. Oh how maddening are those thick, wiry hairs that decorate his face are. That oh so masculine trait makes me weak in the knees...

Eyes fluttering closed at the sensation that flashes straight through my nervous system to settle low in my abdomen. Oh, how good he feels, how tempting to me on so many levels. 

Emma's fast, labored breath tickles my skin, gets trapped in my hair, heats my ear and jugular. Of their own volition, my hands have come to rest on his shoulders, flexing hard into the muscles there as our bodies still.

When Emma suddenly swallows hard, the bristly facial hairs tickle me again and I choke on a moan. An involuntary shudder rattles me, making my muscles tense around his body and making him shiver in turn. He's so close and it would be so easy to simply turn my head and taste his skin. The closeness is intoxicating, his upper body curled close to mine, his legs counterbalancing his weight, my body sandwiched in between. 

Even as my traitorous nipples grow rigid and over-sensitized, his hands, large and warm, come to rest on my hips. Oh, the intimacy of this position fills my head with images and ideas, curiosities of how this would feel with our skins naked and slick...

A rattle of sound shatters the suffocating moment as effectively as any explosion or ambush. For an endless moment, we rear our heads back, search the other's eyes in the dim light. So many hopes and fears and promises. In a very real way, I want so badly to affirm the riot of chaotic emotion, but the outside world is intruding and fast.

With a scrabble of movement that knocks our foreheads together, I pull away from his intoxicating body, the hands draped low over my hips and rear, the scent of him. It should not be as difficult as it is to do so and my shattered self-control is ablaze with warning.

At the corner of the electrical shed that has protected our confusing interlude from prying eyes, I quite literally bump into David. Startled, the man eyes me oddly and I cannot meet that questioning gaze. He'll see my weakness there, my growing need for the golden hero he fathered so long ago.

 

++ Emma ++

Helplessly staring after my lust object, I note that she awkwardly mumbles something at David, clutching her coat tight around her body as she retreats. The body memory of those hard nipples against my chest makes the erection throb urgently and I curl my legs up to my torso and hope that it offers some disguise.

"Hey. You okay?"

It takes real effort to swallow past my dry throat and mumble something vaguely affirmative at my father, but it's a weak effort. I must look pitiful, balled up in the corner of the little fenced area I’m supposed to be decorating for the upcoming town festivities. I recoil as David crouches to look closely at my face and I abruptly realize that he thinks Regina has done something.

Is it wrong that I want to burst into hysterical laughter?

Grabbing a strong forearm, I get his attention and blurt out, "she didn't do anything, David. I tripped and nearly took the ladder with me. She was just making sure I hadn't half killed myself, again. She's been really helpful and stuff and I don't hate her. I might have at some point, I can’t even remember anymore, but I know too much now. I know what she's done is horrible and unforgivable, but she's just a scared, lonely little girl with too much power. Imagine what that does to a person. And being raised by that monster that is her mother. It's no excuse, but can you imagine?"

The idiotic babbling dies down and I’m grateful that my stress seems to once again be calming the damn monster in my pants. This has gotten really old really fast. There may come a day when the riot of sensation might be fun, but now is mostly definitely not it.

"I think you have a good heart, Em," David says gently, startling me because, I swear to god, I forgot he was here for a moment. "No matter who you were before you came here, I think that has always been true. Now come on and get up. There's still lights to hang. I'll give you a hand."

Things go more smoothly after that, though I still don't dare actually climb the ladder. Once we finish, we take the string I smashed up to the nuns to be cataloged and I find myself completely flustered by Sister Astrid's sunny grin.

Augh! Shoot me...

It's gotten late and the chill has seeped into my bones, making me shiver. Much as I like the luxurious leather jacket Regina bought me, I really need something warmer. So, jamming my hands deep into my pockets, I start my trek home, hoping the exercise will warm me up. I haven’t gone a block when I get a adrenaline rush out of a familiar, sleek black Mercedes coming around the corner.

Now what?

Because as much as I might be torn about this whole physical attraction thing, so far, Regina has been really... helpful. God, I wish I had a better word. Dunno what the hell she's getting out of it, but maybe I should just shut up and go with it. 

My changed body sure likes the sound of that.

 

++ Regina ++

Utterly unnerved by what transpired at the sheriff station, I have been puttering around in my car for nearly an hour. I'm at a loss of what to do with myself, with how to proceed with Emma Swan.

The old me eyes him the way a predator would prey. With his weakness exposed, I have the means of manipulating him. But to what end? The curse is broken, Henry is once more in my life and even my hatred of Snow White has mysteriously calmed.

So what end would my old behaviors bring me if I were to manipulatively seduce Emma?

There is an older part of me that is attracted to him in a deeper, more innocent way. The way I think normal people are attracted to each other. That sweet, innocent girl I once was sees the sweet man that has replaced the brash woman I once hated and cannot seem to keep my eyes off of him.

And that is why I am terrified of these burgeoning feelings even as I am irresistibly drawn to him. 

As though conjured up to torment me, I round a corner... and there he is.

Clearly chilled despite layers of warm shirts and the jacket gifted to him, Emma pauses instantly and I can almost feel the weight of his gaze. My body is directing the car seemingly against my will, slipping the sleek vehicle between other parked cars and placing the transmission into park. Yes, I’m illegally blocking a driveway, but perhaps it will bring over the good sheriff to reprimand me...

There's a long pause where I can sense his own struggle with what is going on between us, before he steps off the curb and approaches. Desperate for any small measure of control, I press the button on the armrest and my window hums open.

"You look cold, Sheriff. Care to warm up?"

For a moment he pauses a few strides away even as I feel myself flush at how low and throaty my voice sounds, even to my own ears. Then he covers the distance, bending over to place elbows on my car door.

"That'd be nice, yeah. You gonna move this thing to a legal parking spot?"

"If you insist."

Nodding decisively, he stands up and walks around the back of the car. Still feeling too out of control, I give in to the perverse urge and pull out of the spot, stopping in the street to wait. There's a long lull before the passenger door opens and Emma carefully levers himself in, a much more graceful affair then the last time he had been here. With a wry look that makes me smirk despite myself, his door bangs shut and we are once more plunged into darkness.

In the heavy quiet, I return to the sheriff station, parking as far from the building and the thinned crowd as possible, relying on the darkness of a burned out lamp and an overgrown tree for privacy.

"Thanks for being here."

It's no shock to me that he the brave one and breaks the silence first.

"It seemed... the right thing to do. Is there anything else I can give you a hand with?"

The small, vulnerable sound he makes at my quiet question-- not quite a moan-- demolishes any chance of avoiding what seems to be inevitable and I cannot resist turning my body and reaching out for him. 

 

++ Emma ++

It doesn't seem to matter that I know this is probably a really bad idea. Our bodies have a completely different agenda than our mutual common sense.

Or lack thereof. 

The word 'hand', spoken so softly in Regina's sexy, throaty voice, made my stifled moan inevitable. When she echoes the sound even more softly, I get chills. Honest to god chills. Only heightened when she turns her body in the seat and fingertips ghost over my knee.

Before this masculine equipment had been a part of me, I would have never believed how quickly arousal changes them. Heat floods to my groin, the testicles growing tense, the penis lengthening and swelling rigidly sensitive. Really don't know how guys deal with this...

With no more preamble, those fingers are on me, further defining my arousal, the sensation muffled by the thick material of my winter pants. My legs are too long and bulky now to have much room to move, but my torso twists towards her as though drawn by a magnet. The near-black hair is thick and silky and I have a perverse thought of what it must have felt like once, long and curly. Even the reminder of who she once was doesn't calm me. If anything it fires my imagination, the memories of the pictures in Henry's book, so difficult to rationalize with people I know. 

My skull slides along hers, our ears bumping intimately and I latch my fingers onto the center console and the door handle as an anchor. The heat of her leg warms my skin and I itch with curiosity. Is she turned on too? I honestly have no solid idea, only minorly calmed by her small moan. Do I even want her to be?

Wracked with familiar confusion, I keep my eyes screwed shut in the darkness of the car and focus on our combined breathing as she pulls loose the button on my slacks. When that elegant hand worms down into my briefs and once again defines that new so very male part of me, I can't keep back the rasping groan. That turns into a high-pitched squeak when she keep moving downward and cups the aggravating testicles.

"Crap," I squeak, pressing back into the leather upholstery until the thirty year old Benz creaks for mercy. Yeah, I wish I could suck in enough air to do the same thing. Sure, I've forced myself to wash the damn things, and Whale grabbed them when he examined me-- eew, get rid of that thought right now-- but never a tender touch. My own clumsy efforts have been barely satisfying, a rough and utilitarian release of pressure that I simply can't tolerate any longer.

This feels good.

Writhing as Regina caresses curled fingers and palm over that damn hard-on, I don't even realize that I've grabbed more than just her jacket in my clenched teeth, only noting that she inhales sharply and her rhythm falters for a moment. There's no concept of time and the aching burn builds up fast and I bark out a muffled sound of release as the orgasm destroys my upper brain for long moments. There's a bit more awareness this time, of the contractions that don't actually feel so different as they did when I was a woman.

Exhausted from the concentrated effort, I sag wearily and let the dizziness pass as Regina strokes me farewell and leaves a disconcerting wet streak over my belly as she sits back. Suddenly the awkwardness is thick enough I feel like I should go get the chainsaw again and I awkwardly reach down to tug my pants into some semblance of order and threading the button back through its hole.

"I..."

But there will be no awkward words from me as her voice sharply cuts me off. "I should be getting home. Will you send Henry over? Or will he be staying with you tonight?"

"Sure, I can... uh, I can take him, sure."

"Very well. Make sure he gets to school on time."

Disoriented-- I haven't bumped into bitchy Regina in a long time-- I get out of the car on rubbery legs and wisely step away as the engine roars to life. She doesn't quite screech out of the parking lot, but it's close and I'm left with questions, jangled nerves and an undoubtedly curious eleven year old.

It's not until much later that I realize that her voice had trembled.

 

++ Ruby ++

(11-21-12)

"Mornin', jail bird," I greet the infamous Captain Hook and she yawns expressively and sits up from the uncomfortable cot. "I'm continuing to experiment on you today."

"Thank you, Ruby. Nice to know I haven't completely lost my touch with the ladies."

The dry sarcasm makes me chuckle and slide over the plate of pancakes. Emma's clever trick of the table pressed to the bars is a good one.

A strangled snore makes me glance over to see Emma, feet up on his desk, head thrown back, dead asleep.

"I think I preferred Leroy's questionable company," Hook says, still in that dry tone as she settles into her chair at the bars. "That one makes the most infernal racket."

"Sleeping in that position, I bet. Pour that little bottle of syrup over the pancakes and enjoy. There's your usual eggs in the smaller container."

"Thank you again."

With an absent gesture of acknowledgment, I walk away, stepping into the main office and quietly closing the door. It's been a week and a half since the shit hit the fan and I’ve barely seen this friend. Makes a girl wonder if he's doing okay. Oh, not physically, I can see he's doing just fine in that department, but in mind and soul. Those of us from the Enchanted Forest are all too aware that those that take hearts are never left unscathed.

Time for some tough love then.

With an imperious shove, his feet start to slip and he jerks awake even as I park my butt on his desk. "Mornin'," I greet him, perversely amused by the bleary danger in those eyes he shares with his mother. Groaning and twisting around to relieve obviously stiff muscles, my pal sits up straighter in the chair and tries to focus. "You've been avoiding me."

"No," he objects a little too quickly, eyes shifty now. "Just... "

Before the lame excuse making can continue, I shift my ass over, taking up the small space between the chair and the desk. When I stamp a foot down onto the chair, dangerously close to a certain very vulnerable part of his new anatomy, Emma nearly jumps clean out of his skin.

He's awake and paying attention now!

"You've been avoiding me."

 

++ Emma ++

Dammit, there's no getting away from Ruby. No matter how much I’d like to stay in denial of everything that's happened to me, an ear is really what I need.

"Okay, okay. You win. Just promise me that you won't share any of this with... Mary Margaret."

Without hesitation, Ruby nods and gives me some space. Leaning forward to scrub my face, my new and common tic with the beard, I struggle with where to start.

"You destroyed Cora. Are you okay with that?"

Peering sideways at her, I have to marvel, "what, are you a mind reader now?" The exasperated smirk is all the answer I’m going to get. "I don't know really. I mean, I had to save Henry, that's all I cared about then, and even now. But feeling it... alive in my hand and just fading away to dust... Yeah, that still haunts me."

It takes me a moment to realize that I'm absently rubbing my right hand against my pant leg as though trying to rid it of a stain that I can't clean off. A hand on my shoulder brings my gaze up to that smile, laced with melancholy sympathy. 

"Not unlike waking with the taste of blood in your mouth, I’ll bet."

There is that...

"I've never killed anyone before."

There's a long pause as I distractedly stare at her shoe. 

"Well. If it's any consolation, for all intents and purposes I think the woman died a long time ago. She just didn't know it. Magic lets you cheat like that."

"Cheat."

"Emma, everyone in fairytale land, including the ones left behind, stopped aging for twenty-eight years. Think about how old that makes all of us."

It's a weird point, but I get where she's driving at and pat her leg so she lets me up. 

"Okay, I get what you're saying. Let me up so I can pee, willya? And next time, I’m not sure you need to threaten to castrate me to get my attention."

"It worked, didn't it?"

"Smartass."

A brief trip to the bathroom and a check on the still passive Hook assures me that everything is in order. Which, of course, makes me paranoid. When I pause in returning to the office and turn back to Hook. "If you don't mind my asking, how did you survive the curse?"

She's paying attention now, pausing over her meal to watch me with those piercing eyes.

"Cora cast a bubble of some sort of counter-magic. I was aware one moment of the curse rolling in as a great roiling fog, and then woke to the overgrown wilderness that is the forest now. As I understand, that's how it was for everyone left behind."

"Right. Thanks for the info."

 

++ Ruby ++

Filing away that little nugget of information about the Enchanted Forest, I watch Emma finish his trek back to the office, expression thoughtful. He moves very naturally now, the adaptations to this much larger body pretty much complete. Certainly more than Hook has, trapped in that cell.

Makes a person wonder if this will ever change...

"So, Sunday is Thanksgiving."

That comment makes him pause halfway into his seat and a whole rainbow of expressions chase over his face.

"Not looking forward to it?"

"More like mixed feelings about it. I have no context for all this... family togetherness."

Not an easy confession and one that would break his mother's heart. Yet, there is no way that Snow is ignorant of this conflict, just desperately ignoring it. 

"Henry will be there."

That piece of what I thought is good news doesn't get the reaction I'm expecting. His head snaps up in surprise. 

"He's leaving Regina alone on a holiday?"

My curious expression startles him, making him flush and look away. 

"You've been cozy with them. Everything okay?"

Jittery with nerves, he rests his elbows on the desk and rubs his hands over his face, leaving them there for a long moment. Like any good hunter, I know that patience is the best weapon sometimes and wait him out. 

After a couple of long moments, he leaps up and startles me, striding over to carefully close the door. Leaning against the glass, he chews on his lip for another moment before finally blurting it out in a rush.

"I have a crush on Regina, a huge, distracting one. It's probably just physical, but I can't get her out of my head and she's been really different and softened from how she used to be and it's impossible to ignore. She's under my damn skin somehow. I know she's done awful stuff, but there's this scared, lonely part of her that draws me in."

Blinking, I’m completely flummoxed on how to react. By how he's acting, it's a serious crush, maybe even more. And by the way he's half hard in those pants, it's definitely physical at the very least. I’ll be nice this time and not tease him about it. Though, by the way his face flames and he returns to his seat, he's quite aware of the problem.

 

++ Emma ++

I really hope a day will come where this damn thing isn't embarrassing me. There was no missing the flick of Ruby's eyes downward and the brief twinkle of amusement. So I sit down again and try to calm my reaction to just thinking about Regina.

For the millionth time, I can only marvel at how frickin' strange my life has gotten...

"So you think there's something saveable in her."

It's a matter-of-fact statement and I nod. 

"Before I met Cora, I hated her as much as anyone in this town. But now I see how the corruption happened. I grew up in a really flawed system of fostering society's orphans, Ruby. I've seen how a bad situation can scar a kid. Hell, I’ve had it happen."

"So we should just forget what she's done?"

"No, no, that's impossible and you know it. A person has to take responsibility for what they've done, but where do we draw the line? She's been a monster, but she's also a really damaged child with no clue how to act appropriately and who didn't know how to love because it was stamped violently out of her."

"Until Henry."

"Yes. Until Henry."

There's a long, heavy quiet where we both digest everything said. When Ruby speaks again, her voice is soft and a little hesitant. "She likes you too. Looking back, I can see it. If nothing else, you're certainly more approachable looking like this, to those of us that like that sort of thing."

Her quick, sweetly flirtatious smile makes me squirm, but I’ll take the compliment.

"Who knows, maybe you can do more than just save the town, White Knight. Just be careful, will you? She can be dangerous, obviously."

The sudden memory of Regina's gentle touch on my body makes me go hot and cold.

"Well, clearly I've got some sort of fetish for the bad guys. She certainly isn't the first of questionable character that's gotten to me. Which reminds me, I really need to talk to Henry and tell him the truth about his father. This honesty thing is hard."

My whine makes Ruby chuckle and pat my shoulder. "It's a skill like any other, Em. We need to do this more often, I've missed you."

"Yeah, me too. I'll try to be a better friend from now on. Even if I weird you out on occasion."

Her laugh reassures me and we can go our separate ways with lighter hearts.


	11. Family Drama

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry begins learning that his folks are just people too, Hook starts to mellow out and the stress of Thanksgiving sends Emma off to a place he'd rather be anyway...

++ Hook ++

"One could almost mistake your attraction being for that one."

My conversational tone makes Emma look at me sharply, green eyes flashing. Straightening up from my lazy leaning against the bars of this damnable cell, I smirk arrogantly. 

"However, I pride myself in reading women well. It makes me..." I falter and this big, golden male steals my smirk. "… made me very successful with them. Your heart," my gaze drops suggestively to where I know he's got little control yet. "Belongs to someone else."

"You continue to be annoyingly mouthy for someone locked up."

"What can I say? It amuses me."

There is an arrogance to Emma Swan that drew me like a moth to a flame. A willing piece of fluff is always amusing, but I am a man-- well was anyway-- that has always relished a challenge. That same arrogance on this man both irritates and intrigues me. Arms crossed, he spends long, slightly uncomfortable moments just staring. 

"So, I have to wonder, Hook. Are you having the same problem I am?"

"Do tell, sheriff."

Striding closer, he merely stares down at me before smiling wickedly. 

"Being attracted to the opposite sex."

I'll bet a year's worth of good sea rations my chuckle was not the answer he wanted. 

"Ah, but you see, that has never problem for me. I've only laid claim to preferring women. I am very much a hedonist, Swan. You should have figured that out."

Swearing quietly to himself, he turns on a heel, keeping his balance this time, and stomps out. Poor lad.

As bored as I always am, I return to my cot and pick up my book. To my surprise, Emma's heavy footfalls return in fairly short order and I peek over the novel. 

"Well, that certainly doesn't look to be standard fare for your lovely little hamlet."

The shackle and its chain are gold and look odd in these surroundings. Emma awkwardly jangles the thing, his face conflicted. 

"I think this is what transformed us."

Now he has my attention and I take up my spot at the bars once more, craning my head to try and get a better look at the object.

"But you up and killed Rumpelstiltskin before I could figure out how to get any information on the damn thing."

 

++ Emma ++

Dammit, I'd really hoped to rattle Hook, because she annoys the crap out of me. Go figure the bastard's bisexual. Oh well.

The decision to rush home and grab the damn shackle was impulsive. Who knows what the pirate might have learned over the years in that enchanted land?

"That is rather unfortunate, yes, but you have to understand that I cannot regret it."

Suddenly overwhelmed with anger at this jerk, I wrestle with the emotional dump shock, squeezing the chain until it hurts. Imagine my shock when Hook sighs heavily and speaks up without the oily tone that I'm used to. 

"Fine, fine. No point in getting all emotional at me. I apologize for my needling behavior. Satisfied?"

Remember, Emma, even the bad guys are never only black and white. Everything is shades of gray. Blowing out my lingering anger on a breath, I nod. 

"Fair enough. You haven't been doing a good job of convincing me not to let you rot in there until you die so far."

Her scoff is very telling. "As though there were any chance of my being let free."

"I've told you before, dumbass, we don't have the facilities to keep prisoners long term here. And there are rules in this world on how prisoners are to be treated. And, I can't exactly send you away to a more suitable facility, now can I?"

Blue eyes are shrewd and thoughtful. 

"True. We never have found an acceptable solution for this little problem."

"No, we haven't. Since you can't be trusted, and you're dangerous, those factors have to be considered. But, before any of that, what do you think we should do with this?"

"Do we want to be our old selves again?"

I hardly expected such an insightful question and sigh heavily, reaching up to scrub my bristly face. 

"Honestly, I hardly know anymore. I'm getting used to this, which both scares and reassures me."

Hook nods reluctantly and I see the empathy in the normally inscrutable eyes.

"Yes, I find myself feeling the same way, even trapped in this small space. I suppose in time, we'll adapt completely. A intriguing prospect as well as a bit terrifying."

"Exactly. So, I say again, what do we do about it?"

 

++ Henry ++

Today's a half day at school, which is cool, since we're going into the Thanksgiving weekend. I'm excited about the holiday, since I get to spend the morning with Mom and then go hang out with Emma and my grandparents for the evening and an overnighter. Part of me wanted to invite Mom along, but no one is ready for that yet, maybe ever. This must be how kids with divorced parents feel...

In the parking lot, I'm surprised to see Mom and Emma talking at the car. They look really uncomfortable, but totally differently than when Emma was a girl. I can't figure it out, but I feel I should be able to.

When Mom sees me, she stands up straight, kinda nervously, and gives me a silly little wave. This new, weirdly normal Mom is a stranger, but I like her. 

"Hello dear, how was your day?"

"Good. And no homework!"

"Again? This new teacher of yours is a pushover."

I agree, but keep that to myself. Things have been so weird since the curse broke that we're all still figuring out how everything works. 

"Hi, Emma, what's up?"

He's so uncomfortable he almost looks like he's in pain and shoots Mom a desperate look. 

"I... I need to talk to you."

"Is it bad?"

All this grownup weirdness is freaking me out, but Emma rushes to reassure me. "No, no, nothing bad I hope, it's just... I need to come clean with you about something important."

I'm surprised when Mom gently takes my backpack so that I can slip out of it. 

"I'll wait here. Take your time."

Nodding, Emma turns away and starts walking. I'm confused about following and sorta scared. But I follow anyway, joining him at the rickety wooden bench near the playground. For what feels like a long time, Emma doesn't talk, and it's making me twitchy.

"Listen, kid, the first thing you have to understand about me is that sometimes telling the truth is really hard. I have a lot of defense mechanisms and lying has been a very old and familiar one. It's not an excuse, I just want you to understand why I made this mistake in the first place."

Only kinda understanding, I nod anyway. "Okay."

"I lied to you about your father."

 

++ Emma ++

I've been wrestling with this for hours, beating my brains out over what I would say and how. Talking with Hook hadn't helped earlier, but I know I have to do this. I'm doubly unsettled because both Hook and I touching the shackle had done precisely squat.

Now, I've leveled my typical bluntness at poor Henry, but what else could I do? His expression goes surprised and then wary and I hate that this is one more strain laid on this boy's heart.

"Lied how?"

"He wasn't a firefighter and he didn't die. At least not that I know of. When I was young, way too young, I took to stealing. Which you already know thanks to Sidney's ugly stories during the sheriff elections. But, anyway, sometimes I did it for the thrill and sometimes to survive. That old car of mine was stolen back then."

Henry's eyes get wide, but I plow ahead, my words rushed. Better just get his over with.

"In fact, there was this guy hiding in the back of it. Turns out we were both thieves and we hooked up and I might have loved him, it's hard to remember anymore. And we were gonna run away to Florida and start over after I'd recovered some valuable watches he'd stolen and hidden, but he turned me into the police and I found out I was pregnant in jail. Which, of course, you also know and why I didn't keep you."

Teary-eyed, I can barely look at the son I'd given up more than a decade ago.

"I'm really sorry, Henry. I really am. All that hurt so much that I lied and it was screwed up for me to do that."

Forced to be too grown up, too many life lessons forced on him too young, Henry is conflicted. I know exactly how he feels and gesture vaguely in Regina's direction.

"You've got a lot to think about, I know. Call me if you have any questions, okay?"

Henry hesitates for a long moment before he stands up and slowly walks away. When his footsteps pause, I look up, cringing at the wounded, exhausted look on his face.

"What's his name?"

"Neal. Neal Cassady."

Nodding, he turns and trudges back to his mom, who gives me a strangely welcome look of pure sympathy before they are gone.

This day has grown to suck.

 

++ Regina ++

Henry has been unnaturally quiet, hunched over his homework, pencil only scratching intermittently. Wrestling with my own demons, I feel a very real empathy with him. It sickens me more than a little that not too long ago I would have reveled in Emma's epic failure in my son's eyes.

Now, I can only hurt for all three of us.

When I catch hazel-green eyes sliding away from me for the third time, I sigh and realize that I better take a shot at what promises to be a very uncomfortable conversation. He is just as uncomfortable and merely watches as I gently take his paper and tuck it into his book to close the pages around it.

"I realize that I'm not very good at this," I speak quietly, my voice strained with emotion. "But I figure I better learn."

With a weary smile, Henry nods. In so many ways, we are strangers and that pains me more than I can say.

"Would you...." His voice trails off, his eyes flickering about uncomfortably before he steadies himself and looks at me fully. "Would you tell me about Daniel?"

It's the last thing I would have guessed he would ask and I struggle not to close myself off once more. Henry hastens to explain.

"I know the basic story, but what I don't quite get is why all the lies and stuff."

"Because love makes people stupid."

It may be one of the most blunt, honest things I have ever said. No forethought, no weighing every syllable to ensure that they work to my maximum advantage. Henry's faint smile earns one in return and I wrack my brain for more words.

"It can be so overpowering, it can alter the way a person thinks and feels. When I was a girl, my lessons in love were... erratic."

We share a surprisingly grownup wry look.

"When Daniel and I started growing closer-- and it took a long time, mind you-- it was a revelation. To have someone choose me first. He gained nothing from it but me, no power or political gain or status. That's something I have never found again."

Clearing my throat harshly around the hard knot of emotion there, I try to expand on what I'm guessing he wants to know. 

"Actually, now that I think about it, Emma and I would have been close in age when we loved and lost."

It's a revelation I hadn't expected. Both of us broken, lonely and so young.

"Do you think you could ever love someone again?"

Oh, child, your loaded questions may be the death of me. But he is too wise now for pat answers and I have promised us both honesty. 

"Could I ever love again," I echo his words, buying a moment of time to think. But this really isn't the time for thinking, now is it? "You mean besides you?"

Embarrassed and pleased, he gives me a smile and a wry look that tells me I haven't answered him.

"I... I don't know that I have an answer for that, Henry. But I promise to try my best to be open to it."

And for now, that seems to be enough.

 

++ Henry ++

(11-22-12)  
Thanksgiving

Last night had been hard, trying to get my head around all the things that Emma and Mom told me. They've both been through so much that it really is hard to imagine it. Even though I asked hard questions about Daniel last night, Mom was really sweet today. I like days like that, when she relaxes and is almost normal. Honestly, there's a part of me that wishes I were home in that big, quiet space instead of all the noisy craziness of Gramma and Gramps little place.

I know Emma agrees, even though he's trying to be cool about it. 

I think I get why Emma lied about my father and I'm not really mad anymore. Though, bet he doesn't know that, because we haven't spent any time together today at all. 

I'm not avoiding him!

Well... not really.

Feeling guilty suddenly, I wiggle away from the press of people and go looking for him. It shouldn't be hard, 'cause he's really distinctive, but there's no sign of him. So I grab one of David's flannels and slip outside. Sure enough, there he is, on the far end of the porch on the bench there, feet up on the railing.

Even from here I can see that he looks kinda serious and almost sad. All these people are hard for him, just like it would be hard for Mom. Neither of them are good with people, especially for long periods of time. 

Well, I can help with that.

"Emma?"

Startled, he jerks his head over and drops his feet to the floor.

"Hey kid. Just gettin' some fresh air."

"And some space?" 

The comment makes him smile a bit, but his eyes are still nervous and --what's the word-- melancholy. Time to explain myself then.

"So, I asked Mom about Daniel, after you talked to me."

"Her stable boy, right? Where all this hate started?"

"Yeah. She really loved him and still misses him like crazy. Did you hear how Doctor Whale brought him back to life, but he was a monster?"

"Uhhh, no." 

Really, don't the adults ever talk to each other?

"Yeah. He attacked me and Mom had to destroy him. So, now he's died twice and she had to do it herself to protect everybody."

It makes me sad to even say it and Emma's whole face is horrified. Somehow, he really does care about my mom. One of the few. Even I didn't care there for a long time. But I do now.

"You know what I really wish?"

"No, but I'm listening if you want to share."

"I really wish my mom could get a happy ending. Not the kind she thinks she wants, but a real one. Do you think that's even possible?"

The smile that softens his furry face makes me smile back and reminds me of Gramma.

"Yeah, I do. Magic seems to be able to do just about anything, especially when we help it out as best we can. In a lot of ways, you've already started fulfilling that wish."

It's weird to hear someone else say that and it makes me squirm. But I really do like hearing it, even if sometimes I really don't know how to show it.

"Yeah, she told me something like that last night. It was nice to hear it."

Wrapping an arm around my shoulders in a sort of hug, Emma gives me a squeeze.

"It's never too late to learn to love your folks. We have that in common, huh?"

 

++ Emma ++

This day has been both one of my best... and a continuation of yesterday's complete suckage. After 'fessing up to Henry, I'd been in a blue funk that had made the rest of the day absolute crap. At least friends and family were kind enough to just leave me the hell alone well into today, since I'm still not coordinated enough to have really helped with preparations or anything. Today, things have been a little tense with Henry, though he's here and that's more than I'd been expecting, though even his welcome presence hasn't been able to soothe the restlessness plaguing me

I love David and Mary Margaret and Ruby and Granny and everybody, but I'm not used to all this overbearing, touchy-feely... togetherness crap.

So glad I don't have to be sober for this...

But then, Henry proves to be a better man than I am and comes to me with wise words and suddenly, the day seems a hell of a lot better. It also turns out, the kid is a devious bugger and agreed to run interference with my folks if I promised to check in on his mom.

Fair exchange I'll wager.

So, I've jogged what feels like miles, the heavy slap of my feet a satisfying rhythm, but there is no relief from the buzz of energy in my body and brain. 

Winded from the sprint I hadn't even realized I've fallen into, I pause to catch my breath, hands braced on my knees. There, at the edge of a pool of light from the street lamp, I poke and prod uncomfortably at my tangled emotions. Ugh, why do my folks have to be the clingy sort? Why do I have to be so drawn to Regina Mills? Why did this crazy sex change happen? Why can't I be normal?

Scrubbing my hands over my bristly face, I actually relish the sensation, finally having pretty much grown used to it. It reminds me of the failure with the shackle Friday that drove home the fact this just really might be forever. And it reminds me of Regina, how her breath had caught as the rough little hairs had brushed over her silky skin...

Ugh, Swan, quit being a wuss and just accept that this new body really, really wants to get up close and personal with hers. How bad can it be? There's no denying that the woman is sexy, even my straight girl self knew that. If she's up for some fun, we're both adults, right? 

Besides, I like the glimpses I keep getting of vulnerable Regina, so my emotions clearly aren't unaffected.

Those days where the three of us were in each other's pockets are fond memories, when the attraction had strengthened, a distraction that has never really left me since. And, oh the dreams that plague me, sometimes even when I'm awake. That leads me to remembering her gentle touch exciting and then soothing me. She broke down the last barriers between body and mind and made me a much happier man. 

And, on a more rational note; her isolation is only going to make her crazy again. Anyone with half a brain can figure that out.

So what are you going to do about it, Swan?

Groaning with the full knowledge that this is probably not a good idea and I'm gonna do it anyway, I can't rationalize it away any more. Sneakered feet pick up the pace again, carrying me through the quiet streets that I never thought I would know well, to the big white mini-mansion that seems far too often like a prison.

Lightheaded with reckless abandon and hormonal fog, I trot to the door, pausing, fist raised. This is it, my last shot at sanity.

Oh fuck it.

 

++ Regina ++

There is some perverse little corner of me that wonders what would have happened if I had actually accepted the invitation Henry hadn't quite scraped up enough courage to offer.

Which was obviously if I would join him with his other family. Even alone, I cannot help but roll my eyes. The idea of a big, noisy holiday with those people is absurd.

And yet...

They have been good to me, all things considered. Even Henry being taken away for so long makes a certain sense in hindsight. That separation taught us both things about the other, made us both realize that we still needed each other. It was one of my darkest times, but led to something positive.

I can rarely, if ever, say that about my history.

As though conjured up by my rambling thoughts, a staccato knock echoes through the heavy front door. Now, I haven't had nearly enough to drink to start having aural hallucinations, so who could that be?

Then, I feel that frisson of awareness and I know exactly who it is. Well, my lonely evening has just become interesting...

As I knew he would be, Emma is at my door, the pale eyes trailing over my body from head to toes. Part of me only now remembers that I am dressed in my favorite burgundy silk pajamas and barefoot. Though by the raw look in his eye, embarrassment is not at all what he's feeling.

To my surprise, Emma steps forward, one big hand on the door, forcing me to step back so that he can lock us into the house. Even with my giving ground, he's in my personal space and I look up into the shadowed gaze. He's been jogging again, the heat radiating off of his body, despite the cold night.

"So, I have a question for you," he murmurs softly and I raise an eyebrow to cover my pleasant discomfiture to his somewhat domineering closeness. "Are you attracted to me? Because I'm sure as hell attracted to you."

These are dangerous waters, too easy to lose control in, so I cannot help but protect myself behind the guise of the seductress. With a feline smile, I set aside my wine glass and trace a finger over his collarbone. 

"Well, you are certainly an attractive man. Did your family holiday get to be too much?"

"Yes," he groans as my hands happily wander further afield than they have before, sinfully enjoying his magnificent physique. "Henry gave me a way out by asking me to come check on you."

"How sweet. How can I ever thank you?"

It is sweet, but my son isn't at all forefront in my mind right now, not with those corrugated muscles of Emma's abdomen beneath my fingers. We both know where this is going, and he certainly isn't stopping me as I tease open the thick button at his waist and he sways in closer to my smaller body. Bossy and needy, he presses his size advantage, secretly thrilling me, and I feel the new door to the guest bedroom at my back.

Some part of me fights his closeness, the dominance of his much larger body, the powerful arms braced on either side of my head, the hot breath in my face. Before he can potentially change the game, I keep to my rules, no matter how much part of me wants more...

Once more he is hot and hard in my hand and I smile at his low, animal sound of surrender. 

"So nice to feel wanted," I purr and relish the roll of his body towards mine and the whisper of magic beneath our skins. The stimulation of his body, the mouth open at my temple and cheek coupled with the tingle of magic is heady, making me secretly wish for more.

But do I dare?

 

++ Emma ++

Panting, I wait for the lightheadness to subside, having grown almost familiar with the sensation of Regina's elegant fingers trailing over my softening dick and caressing my belly. I've still got her pressed against the door into the guest room, face tucked into the crook of neck and shoulder, shaky fingertips stroking her throat and chin. Her breathing is heavy, her body restless against mine as I breathe in the scents of her.

There's something new here, something enticing and simpler. Like peeking behind the woman's very accomplished emotional armor. Like her carefully tailored look and even scent just another layer of control, so too is the seductress persona.

But not tonight.

Tonight she is a simpler, more approachable creature, smelling of warm skin and some sort of herbal soap with a hint of the firelight flickering in the living room. A cocktail the most primitive and lizard-like part of my brain likes very much.

The more rational part of my brain, the one that still gibbers in horror over all this... stuff with Regina, tells me that this is where we part ways. That's how it's worked before and staying will cause all sorts of icky emotional entanglements.

A bigger part of me wants more. My instincts and the subtle clues of her body tell me that she's turned on, willing to be pushed further if I man up. So I mouth curiously at her neck, getting the feel of her smell and taste, before being taken over by a wild urge and sinking my teeth into that thick tendon running from shoulder to jaw.

The noise she makes...

That noise does things to this big body that are stunning.

I suckle at the flesh trapped in my teeth, rubbing my tongue over the silky surface to really get the taste of her. She's gasping, a high-pitched, startled sound like an animal ready to bolt in fear. In contrast, I gently touch her face, blindly mapping out the softness of her skin, her lush, trembling mouth, open and wet with her inarticulate sounds. That tender mouth gentles my aggression and I soothe the place on her neck that I've mauled, her sounds low and throaty now. My thumb whispers over the sharp edge of a tooth and the sensation jolts through my body like electricity... or the magics we share.

Gentle but insistent, I crouch and yank her tight to me with a strong grip on her magnificent ass. Man, if I'd had curves like hers when I'd been a woman...

Shaking off that distracting thought, I stumble over the couch with her legs straddling my waist. She's clinging almost brutally hard to my neck, panting into my disheveled hair and I tell my ego to shut up.

"So, I've been mean to you, leaving you hanging," I hum softly and get her settled against my chest and belly. There's a real tension in her, hips twitching and her grip in my hair is brutal. So I continue to kiss and lick at her neck while caressing over the curves that have been tormenting me for weeks now. "And I didn't mean too. I've grown to enjoy being with you."

The satiny pajamas are luxurious, but don't hold a candle to the soft skin I find at the small of her back, hot against my palms. Coaxing at her tense body, I get her to lean back so that I can nuzzle over her collarbones, pressing her weight back onto my hands. I can't resist nipping lightly at her skin and listening to her small sounds of pleasure. She's trying to stifle her verbal outbursts, but I still know them.


	12. First Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last, our lovely couple come together.

++ Regina ++

Somewhere in my mind, I wonder when I lost control of this game. Yet, I relish it, the hot mouth on my sternum, my vulnerable body open around his hips, resting in his strong hands. Oh, how I have wanted him...

With trembling hands, I fumble at the buttons on my shirt, fighting with the urge to just rip the fabric away. The stiffly soft nap of the short beard rasps against my chest and fingers, a decadent tease. His licking at my fingertips is all the more maddening, my stuttering moan low and evocative. 

"Emma," I groan quietly, feeling his hands slide up my back, his mouth suckling lower, marking my skin gently.

"I've wanted to know what you feel like," he growls, the scrape of beard against my sensitive breasts making me squirm. "To know what you taste like."

Grasping the gold hair, I turn my eyes down to watch him, relishing the coiling pleasure as he mouths at the curve of breast, sating his curiosity. It gives me such a thrill to know that these first tastes of the pleasures of the flesh while in this virile male body are being shared with me. Watching his tongue tickle coyly around my hardened nipple makes me moan his name again, the sound loud in my ears when he suckles for real.

Emma wrests control from me again, one hand moving, tickling beneath my waist band, over my hip, making my abdomen flutter with anticipation. Sensitive, thick fingers stroke my skin, moving lower as he kisses over to my other nipple.

"Your... coordination is getting better," I breathe out, seeing the corners of his mouth quirk. But he does not stop his curious and gentle ministrations, making me squirm and moan. Wet and anxious, I cry out at the sliding press of that one teasing digit. Over the coarse hairs I keep so meticulously neat, a near-electric tingle over the focus of my rawest pleasure, he strokes sweetly into the thick wet only for him.

"Oh," he moans with me as stark pleasure races through my nerves like fire as the lightly calloused pad of his finger coaxes gently at my hard button of pleasure, making me whimper and rock my hips wantonly. Emma's breath is hot then cold over my wet nipple, the sound harsh as I rub my chin roughly against his scalp. The trembling rush of ecstasy is bearing down, the muscle-aching strength of it like nothing I have ever felt before. Quick and hard, it whites out my nervous system, and my broken moans are loud in counterpoint to Emma's. Gasping for air, I cling to him and relish the sensations of such simple and complicated pleasure.

"I suppose this was inevitable."

My whispered tease makes Emma huff in quiet amusement, giving my clit a tweak that gives me a lovely jolt before once more sliding that hand to the small of my back. The wet trail is a reminder that I am certainly not completely in control of this encounter, no matter what part of me may want.

With trembling knees, I pry myself away from his amorous hands to stand. 

"If you're in no rush to be anywhere," my query earns a shake of Emma's head. "Then I suppose we're overdressed."

 

++ Emma ++

Mostly heterosexual I may be, with a morass of confused sexuality in my skull, but even if I were in my straight girl bones and skin, this would be undeniably hot. Slinky as a cat, Regina strips off the silky pajamas before once more straddling my knees, all golden skin and inky hair.

"So beautiful," I compliment softly, barely aware of the words.

I am not a patient person unless I have to be, and this seems like a good time for that as she reaches out to smooth both hands over my upper chest. We've never made time for any real exploration, so I’m nearly as much a mystery as she is. 

Resting my hands on her tensely spread thighs, I brush fingertips over the silky skin, but leave her to explore otherwise. The dark eyes, which I have seen range from bread crust brown to inky black, are the later now, her face in shadow from her raven hair.

These are our precast roles, her dark to my light, bathed as I am in the fire's glow. But I find the shadows more honest, the blend of the two. Black and white are for those more innocent than we are.

When Regina leans in close, fingers working at the buttons in my thick shirt, I nuzzle at her flowing hair and make a low sound of encouragement. She echoes it back in a grumble at the thin tank top beneath, which makes me chuckle, the sound strangled off when her hands once more caress over my chest with only the thin cotton a barrier.

"I had no idea my chest was still so sensitive..." 

Some part of my damn brain wants to analyze anatomical differences, but the current distractions are too great and the rest of me tells it to shut the hell up. Head lolling back, I close my eyes and let Regina do what she will. Knowing she's smirking in triumph, I let her have it, because really, who's the one getting felt up here?

Tugging the undershirt loose from my pants alerts the boy bits that the fun and games aren't over yet and he better wrap up his breather and get back in the game. I haven't pushed for a quick second round in 'maintenancing' the stupid temperamental thing, so I have no idea what recovery time I have.

Apparently, not too bad, as it starts to stir slowly to life again. Sweet.

Regina's soft hands and lightly scratching nails over the naked skin of my torso are excellent incentive and I don't fight the moan bubbling up. There's no point in denying that I’m feeling pleasure, as my still unfamiliar dick comes up like a coiling snake, pressing against the fabric of my slacks.

Screw this, I need out of some of these layers, like now! Grunting, I lurch forward, making Regina lean away with an arched eyebrow, expression annoyed and frankly horny. Stick to your instincts, Emma, and don't analyze or you'll freak the hell out.

Awkwardly skinning off the shirts, I get my wrists jammed up, making Regina actually giggle and go hunting for hidden buttons at the cuffs while I mouth distractedly at her glorious hair.

When she bossily shoves me back into the cushions to tease her hardened nipples over my bare chest, something in my brain short circuits and I swear I hear cheering in my head.

 

++ Regina ++

Oh, beautiful man, you are mine now...

The heat of his bare skin against mine is intoxicating. Unlike our other encounters, such that they've been, now is the time for exploration, to indulge in the taste and feel of him.

With an almost fetish-like abandon, I rub my nose and cheek over his jaw, relishing the thick, soft hairs. The texture is very different than the others who have been my lovers. But my past has no place with my present and I ruthlessly push away the memories.

With hands and mouth, I map his powerful torso, fumbling at the buttons that keep him from being more naked. One glance at the rigid shaft that has teased me too often and I can only be grateful for this little sliver of happiness in these stolen moments.

"Arch up," I hiss, pulling his hips towards me urgently. When he does so, I skin pants and briefs away from his lean hips, uncaring that they pool around his still-booted feet. A graceful and drawn-out seduction can wait for another time.

The low, animalistic sounds from his throat and the big hands tracing heavily over my skin are a delight and I tease mouth and tongue over the tight skin of his torso. The heat in my guts is a boiling distraction and his nakedness is irresistible. 

Pressing my wet heat to his belly makes the pale eyes blink in astonishment and I cannot stop my hungry, smug smile. I know his desires, I share them. With a shift of hips, I can feel the rounded head of his erect shaft there, at the entrance to my body, but... something makes me pause and search the bewildered green eyes.

Leaning in, I close my eyes and kiss him. It's just a swift peck, closed mouthed and chaste in ironic counterpart to our intimate position.

"Shall we?"

The muscles in my thighs are shaking with effort. I want him so badly that the urge to sink down is sharp, desperate to just ride him until I am blind with the pleasures. But, I want more from him than just the heat of his body under and in me.

Large hands on my waist, coaxing me to settle earns the harsh groan of feeling I share with him. He's a nice fit, the pleasurable discomfort of the welcome invasion making my nervous system spark happily. 

Blinking open my eyes, I marvel at his expression. Wonder mixed with a grimace of pleasure. 

"Holy fuck that feels good," he moans softly and I preen at the compliment, watching his head loll back as I rock my hips. Oh, how wonderful he feels, not just to my body, but to my scarred soul. So, I start up a rhythm that will teach him so much about our bodies together as one entity.

But a short lesson, because I won't last long, the push and pull of our joined bodies already working it's carnal magic. Tinder to dry wood, it spark and sizzles, loosening joints and tendons, constricting the breath in my lungs, driving me higher.

Then the smoky fire rushes over me, a suddenly threatening wave of power I am not prepared for. The heat is like a bucket of icy water, alarm blasting away the pleasure with sheer panic...

 

++ Emma ++

Foggy with lust, it takes a moment for sanity to reassert over animal instincts and I’m shocked to find myself on my feet, crouched defensively.

"What?" I finally croak out, baffled by Regina's babbling something about breaking a promise. "Regina!"

The bark gets her attention, her body straightening up from its defensive cower, as though she's expecting to be attacked. 

"I promised Henry I wouldn't use magic. I promised!"

It's probably not a good time to sigh in faint exasperation, but I can't help it, pushing agitated fingers through my hair. 

"I don't think you did."

Now I’ve completely baffled her and the evening's pleasant activities are clearly out now. Dammit, we'd felt so good together too…

"That wasn't you. It was me."

That annoyed skepticism makes me huff humorlessly as I bend down to yank up my pants where they've fallen around my ankles and sit back down. Rubbing my hands over face and scalp, I organize my thoughts, trying to shove away the jangling need brought on by our interrupted loving.

"Well, more accurately, it was us. You and me, together. Jeez, have you forgotten already that we made Jefferson's damn hat work? Not you, not me, but us. Then, in the Enchanted Forest, when Cora attacked us at the whirlpool, I shoved Mary Margaret aside when she was going for her heart. That sensation of a hand in your chest? Yeah, not fun. But when Cora pulled, she couldn't do it. Damnedest sensation too, like she was yanking at something immovable, my whole body twitching. I told her love wasn't weakness, it was strength, and there was this... flash and a huge ripple like a rock in water, and she poofed away in that damn purple smoke."

Still as a statue, Regina watches me, clearly soaking up every word.

"So, Gold told me I have some sort of innate power as a child of True Love, blah, blah, blah. He didn't have much in the way of answers, but it's clearly what let me destroy Cora too. I didn't want to do it, I've never killed anyone in my life, but I had to protect Henry, and you too. It's what I do, whether I like it or not. I actually saw her heart, where it wasn't supposed to be, like she was hiding it, and went after it without thinking, just pure instinct. Clearly my magic is really instinctual and probably affected by my emotions. Just like when we activated Jefferson's hat. So, yeah, sorry for screwing up the evening. I was having an awful lot of fun, but I guess I should get going."

The erection is fading, my morose mood translating quite clearly, so I stand once more and adjust the waistband to start buttoning up. A hand on the middle of my chest stops me short, looking into Regina's level gaze, a bewildering mix of childlike wonder and hard skepticism.

"I never really analyzed what I knew of your adventure there. Not to mention what happened right here. She really couldn't take it?"

This is clearly very important and I shake my head, torn between the thrill of her hand on that same spot where her monster of a parent tried to destroy me, and the sensuality of her touch.

 

++ Regina ++

He has taken on a whole new dimension now. For while I still have no idea how his vast power works, some aspects do make more sense now. Beneath my hand, his heart beats strong, slowly calming from the shock of my panic... and more pleasurable pursuits.

With a heavy sigh, Emma steps back to concentrate on his hands and shakily starts to fasten up his pants. Before I can second guess myself, I step close once more, putting my hands on his wrists to stop him.

"Stay. Please."

Both of us are startled by the quiet plea and I can't help the ingrained need to protect myself with sharp words.

"We'll just have to be careful of magical fireworks, I suppose."

For a brief moment, he only eyes me oddly before shaking his head quickly and stepping into my personal space. Hands hard on my upper arms, his kiss is rough and closed-mouthed and not at all sexy, but it calls to me with an intimacy we have yet to share. I don't understand where the need comes from, but I relax passively, curling up my arms in his hard hold to rest my hands just above his sagging waistband. A tilt of my head, mouth soft beneath his, and any chance of getting out of this emotionally unaffected is gone.

Gentling, Emma embraces my shivering body once more, his mouth softening into a sweet kiss that shakes me. It's sloppy and adoring and makes my insides tickle like some foolish, innocent girl. 

His lusty mouth also makes me very, very wet.

With a low, growling sound, he wrenches away from the kiss and crouches to sweep up my weight effortlessly. My startled, girlish noise is not feigned as I cling to his shoulders, reveling in the bossy gesture. My grip around his neck turns a little alarmed as his body sways unsteadily.

"Stupid shoes," he grumbles and I chuckle and nuzzle into the fair hair to kiss and suck at his ear. "Not helping, Regina."

Chuckling, I marvel at his raw strength when the arm against my back vanishes and my entire body weight dangles from my grip on his neck and the muscled arm beneath my knees. A few more gyrations and a near-tumble onto the couch and I see the pants kicked away.

"That is not an easy task, even with no hips. Now, where were we?"

"The remote control."

"What?"

"It will shut off the fire."

"Got it."

The room plunges into darkness and I am borne across the living room, Emma hesitating at the bottom of the stairs. Both of us look up into the shadows, finding the idea of my bedroom forbidding somehow. Then he shakes himself out and strides decisively for the door where all this began, the entrance cut from the hole where his body tore a great gash in the wall. It seems fitting somehow, for us to consummate this chemistry between us, here where he first made himself irreplaceable in my life.

 

++ Emma ++

I hadn't expected the... intimacy of kissing this complicated woman. Frankly, fucking on the couch --aside from the shattering physical sensations-- hadn't rattled me as much as her mouth does. Like Regina herself, the kiss is unexpected softness, with the very real threat of sharp teeth. Only an idiot would completely let their guard down with her, but the thrill of our chemistry is irresistible.

I'm distracted by a peculiar sensation, something bone-deep familiar and yet completely foreign, that makes me jerk my head up. It's startling to see her eyes glowing faintly purple, her expression twisted like she's trying to fight something very strong that looks like it's as much pleasure as pain.

"Stupid magic," I tease very gently, feeling the roiling power of it in her slender, strong frame. Then, an idea occurs to me as I lay down with her and cup her face in my hands, resting my weight on my elbows. Her body is trembling slightly under mine, an unnamed emotion that I think I understand is something like alarmed intoxication. "Let me try something. Just watch my eyes."

How magic works is a language I don't understand, but I have always been an instinctual creature and fall back on that now. The pressure of the magic she inadvertently soaked up from me is obvious in her body, like too much pressure in a vessel. So, I visualize it, the swirling violet smoke of her to the hot, white glow of me, feel it so impossibly real, just under our naked skins. And, like a fire in reverse, the smoke returns to the flame, condenses safely down to the innate abilities my parents somehow gave to me.

Regina makes a weird, animal noise, loss and surprise and surrender and relief. Her eyes are wide when I blink my gaze clear and smile warmly. 

"Better?"

"How...?"

"No clue. But I figured if you could get it from me, I could take it back and help you out. So we're even now?"

Bewildered and a little freaked out, she nods and I lean down to press my forehead to hers, stroking her cheeks with my thumbs. Her breath is warm and enticing over my face, our mouths almost touching. When I open my eyes fully, I am caught by the depths of her rich, dark gaze in the bedside lamp.

"Thanks for the lesson," I whisper and watch a riot of conflicting emotions on her face.

"I hardly think..."

"Oh, hush you. How the hell else am I supposed to figure out this stupid superpower? You didn't think about that did you?"

"Clearly," she sasses me dryly, starting to stroke my sides. "Besides, I suppose that that little... trick of yours will reassure everyone that you can keep me leashed."

It shouldn't be funny, but it is and I try to swallow my snerk, failing miserably.

 

++ Regina ++

That utterly baffling magic of him has once more left me completely out of my depth. Everything I have ever learned of magic clearly has no bearing on how it works with him. Nor does it feel the same as any magic that I have encountered in my many days. And, as much as the sensations of our magics mixing alarms me on some level, it also the most extraordinary feeling. But more immediate is the powerful body above me, both of our bodies remembering the pleasures we had been sharing before magic had interrupted. 

Emma doesn't fight my coaxing touch, my hands tracing over the muscled arms and back. I get a very pleasant surprise when my fingertips come to rest at the base of his spine and his hips surge forward with lusty intent, his shaft instantly rigid against me.

"You like that."

There is no verbal reply, just the animal need in him, his mouth hot and needy on mine. With no preamble, I use that hand on his back to direct him, and in a swift, decisive thrust, we are once more joined. With every thrust, the movement becoming more practiced and fluid, the curve of his shaft rubs that exquisitely sensitive spot inside, making my hips cant up to maximize the contact. My hands caress his hair and shoulders, cling to his powerful neck while I relish the thrust of his body between my knees, his skin silky and fuzzy against my belly and the inside of my thighs.

Sweat-slicked and lusty, our bodies move together, the pleasure hot and thick. Oh, how I have missed these simple pleasures, this most primitive of interactions.

Emma grunts lustily, my lower lip slipping between his teeth, a near bite as his jaw tightens. It gives me another thrill that heightens the heavy buzz of pleasure pooling low in my body, where we are so intimately joined, a powerful energy not entirely unlike the magic, but as bright a sensation as the magic is dark. 

It coils tight, a peak of hot pleasure that makes me cry out and grip his body to mine.

This is an intensity I have never felt before; an intensity that would terrify me were I to look at it too closely. But for now, I am blind and numb to my fear, aware only of the thrust and wet pulse of Emma's body, his blissful weight. Panting, I hold him to me, nuzzling the soft hair as we calm.

"Wow," he breathes softly, his body trembling and I chuckle warmly.

"Indeed."

Groaning with the effort, he shows sensitivity about his weight and rolls to his side, hugging me close. It's decedent and sweet and I don't fight it. My roving hand low on his back makes him jump again.

"Christ, I thought I was sensitive before," he groans and squirms, making me smile. "Old hot spot. Here, see for yourself."

In the shadow my body casts, all I can see are dark lines on his pale skin. So I sit up and marvel at the surprise.

It is a tattoo. An intricate painting of heavy black lines and shapes, a geometric and stylized bird bursting through a watery surface, wingtips trailing drops of blood like daggers. The regal head on its long, slender neck is bowed in what could almost be defeat if not for the gloriously spread wings that cover the entirety of the base of his back.

 

++ Emma ++

Still lightheaded from the fun and games, I find myself rambling on drunkenly while Regina cuddles herself along my other side, mixing our heat and sweat.

"I got it done after getting out of jail. I felt so broken and alone and I wanted some sort of... milestone to mark the next leg of my journey. And with a name like Swan, I went for the obvious. But the guy I tracked down to do the work made me talk about it," the distaste for that part of the memory isn't exaggerated and Regina makes a soft, sympathetic sound, "and really think about what I wanted. So it ended up almost like a phoenix, which I still really like, and we went with a black swan, because that suits me better."

Groaning with a sensitivity bordering on pain, I writhe beneath her stroking hand, soft fingertips tracing the dark lines imprinted in my skin. 

"A black swan?"

Her question wouldn't make sense except that I know the truth about this town. So I turn my head to the side to smile at her.

"You've never seen one I take it?"

The wry look carries a hint of her old, bristly self, but it lacks tooth. Being well-fucked-- if I do say myself-- will do that to a bad guy. 

"Emma, I’ve never left this town. I didn't know such things existed."

She's bratty and mouthy and can be a little mean. Luckily, I like that about her. With my smile deepening at the echo of that same expression on her lovely face, I roll to my side and reach out to tickle fingertips over her hip and thigh. When her expression goes dark and hungry, my lusty moan is sincere. I'm exhausted and my dick nearly aches from the unaccustomed exercise, but it seems I have no self-control and it's slowly stirring once more.

God, it's weird being so defined by this one, stupid body part.

As though to deny the obvious erogenous zone, I snake my arm around Regina's waist to pull her to me. She allows me the intimacy, leaning over me, nuzzling my face, her inky hair soft and sweet-smelling. My hands wander freely over her skin, relishing the silkiness and heat of her.

Tousled and bare-faced with kiss-swollen lips and bedroom eyes, Regina is amazing. There's none of her elaborate makeup to define every feature and I find I like her unadorned face. It leaves her almost... ordinary.

So I cannot resist returning the nuzzling, soft kisses at her cheeks and brow, a lick at her nose and the corner of her mouth. As I angle to kiss her mouth, I feel the odd sensation of that distinctive scar and press my tongue over that spot on her upper lip. The stuttering gasp and the shudder of her body is electrifying and she presses close and with sensual intent.

Words are overrated anyway...


	13. Little Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Becoming lovers was the easy part. Now what?

++ Emma ++

(11-23-12)

"Hey, sleepyhead, time to get up. There are a toothbrush and sundries in the bathroom for you."

Peeling open one eye, I regard a once more impeccably put together Regina Mills. This is not the same woman who moaned so sweetly as we tried out being lovers last night. Yet, there are soft hints around her eyes and mouth that are subtly reassuring. Quirking a faint grin, she sets down a mug of what I can smell is coffee beside a pile of neatly folded clothing I recognize immediately.

"Remind me to come check on you more often," I grin and roll over to shove fingers through my completely wrecked hair. She smirks and leans over, making me jump and squeak as her hand comes to rest on the hard-on I haven't even acknowledged yet.

"Oh, I'm sure that can be arranged," she purrs throatily and gracefully steps aside as I scramble for the bathroom to relieve a now screaming bladder. It's been awhile since I've body-checked myself into a door frame and I rub my sore face as I take care of business. Just another good reminder to never take that one for granted!

Clearly, I like the challenge she presents to me, I always have. Even when we hated each other.

Taking the hint of bathing supplies and a clean towel, I hop in the shower and clean up. When I get back to the bedroom, the bed is already stripped. Chuckling to myself at her 'head bitch in charge' efficiency, I get into my freshly laundered clothes while sucking down the good, dark coffee.

When I step out, I find Regina in the kitchen staring out the window at the driveway. She startles faintly when she catches me out of the corner of her eye, turning to face me. But her defensive body language, arms crossed, posture rigid, doesn't ease. Oddly, I don't take offense at all. We're both private people and not the warm fuzzies types at all. 

It's time for me to get going anyway.

But some wild impulse makes me stride over to grab those jutting elbows and pull her close to plant a quick, hard kiss on that serious mouth. 

"Thanks for the coffee. And everything. See you around?"

"Yes," she finally manages to say quietly, seriously, and I nod before walking away to get back into my shoes and check that I have all the crap that is supposed to be in my pockets. There's a last, loaded look traded as I walk to the front door and step into the blinding sun of the gorgeous day.

Back to real life I suppose.

 

++ Mary Margaret ++

Something has changed. Something fundamental. Just yesterday, there was a tension to my daughter, and today he looks far more relaxed and settled into his so very foreign skin.

Maybe it's because I was close to Emma before I remembered who she truly is. We were roommates and good friends! Perhaps it is that, or just a desperate denial, but I cannot fully accept this handsome, strapping man as the daughter I lost so long ago and have lost once again to this new curse.

But even… he…. is obviously coming to accept this change as fact. With a graceful ease unheard of even a week ago, he strides over to the counter and pours himself a coffee while chatting casually with Granny. He looks calm and well-rested and is clearly in a playful mood. Much different than the jumpy mass of nerves from yesterday.

"Hey guys," he greets myself and David cheerfully and slides into the booth opposite our little cuddle.

"Well good morning to you, Cheerful!"

"No, that's not a proper dwarf name. Try again."

"How about Cheery?"

"That'll work."

Completely amused with themselves, Emma and David banter back and forth, seeming not to notice that I'm so quiet.

"You seem different today."

Or, I could just rudely interrupt. Something flashes in Emma's eyes, something I can't decipher, and he shrugs calmly. 

"I think I finally got my first decent night's sleep since the curse broke. Turns out a better mattress helps." David must echo my odd look, because Emma regards us with a near-eyeroll and deadpans, "Regina's guest bedroom. I'd been drinking and jogging."

"Is that safe?"

"A little late for that question. She and Henry were living with me for days. Besides she can't steal this, remember?" 

Thick fingers tap his chest and I'll never forget the sight of Cora magically reaching into his body... and unable to remove that strong heart.

Right on cue, Granny plunks down a huge lumberjack breakfast that Emma attacks like a starving man. Amazing what that big body can pack away!

"So you ready to get back in the saddle?"

Emma pauses as David reaches out to place the gold sheriff badge within easy reach. Distractedly, meal temporarily forgotten, Emma strokes the metal, face thoughtful. 

"Yeah, I think we can work on that. Maybe some shooting practice in some safe spot in the woods?"

"I know just the place."

Despite my lingering conflict, I'm so proud of them both.

 

++ Emma ++

It's a nice walk, despite the drizzly chill. The fact that we swung through my apartment so that I could dress warmer helps.

"I swear I don't get as cold as I used to," I muse as I trek along in David's wake.

"Maybe the cliches are true. Men don't get as chilled, but it'll kill us faster."

"How reassuring."

Eventually, we find a spot by the river with a cliff-side across the water. There are already a mass of makeshift targets there from past shooters. 

"Convenient."

The pistols are actual six-shooters, like some damn western movie, archaic like everything else in this town. But they shoot like normal six-irons, so that's a relief. Maybe driving a car won't be so bad after all.

Six shooters. So full of sexual innuendo! Stifling a dirty smirk, I muse that Regina actually got three rounds out of me and the last one was almost painful, making my lungs burn and causing muscle cramps. But the feel of her wet heat and the lushness of her body were worth the effort. At least I'm still worn out and the damn dick stays quiet.

When I suddenly drop the gun and it careens off my boot toe, David nearly jumps out of his skin. I know he asks what's wrong, but I can't hear him over the sudden vacuum of panic in my skull.

Twice I'd been buried to the hilt in Regina's hot body, orgasming like a porn star. Oh, oh fuck! How could I be so stupid? I'm not even supposed to be in this body, much less having unprotected sex with it!

David actually has to shake me-- not gently either-- before I snap out of it. 

"Sorry," I stammer, desperately trying to figure out what the hell to say. "I don't know what came over me."

"Well, you scared the hell out of me, Emma. Sheesh. Be careful. Are you sure you're okay?"

"No, not really. Can we head back? I'm suddenly not feeling my best."

The last time I did something stupid like this, when I was my old self, I'd gotten knocked up myself. At least then I was a barely legal stupid teenager. All I can blame now is my randy hormones.

And the fact that Regina has grown irresistible to me. 

As impossibly awkward as the upcoming conversation is going to be, putting it off is not cool and I know it.

 

++ Regina ++

(11-24-12)

None of my coping mechanisms are working. Yesterday had not been so bad, my mind and body suffused with the memories of Thanksgiving night.

I'm annoyingly anxious to see Emma again. Really, this isn't like me, mooning over some boy...

But, deep down inside, I know that is exactly who I should be. That sweet girl Daniel loved.

Three and a half weeks have passed since I have lost my dearest love for good. Three and a half weeks since my heart has been broken irreparably yet again. And yet... I continue on, scars forming over the rawest wounds. For I cannot forget the heartfelt words he left behind as benediction even as I was forced to finally let him go forever.

Then love again.

And the girl who loved him grows stronger and stronger as the days pass, taking those words to heart. The further away I get away from the broken and evil woman I have been, the more and more foreign she seems.

A knock at my door startles me from my thoughts. There's no denying the frisson of fear, that trapped animal energy I know as intimately as my own breath. Who would be at my door?

Wary, but hopeful it is the only person I want to see, I go the door and unbolt it to yank it open with a reckless disregard for my safety.

"Emma."

Part of me knew this meeting would be awkward after what we've done, after how we parted ways. But he looks positively miserable, rocking agitatedly back onto his heels, an annoying trait he shares with David.

"Step inside so that my house doesn't turn into an icebox." I finally sigh and he passes the threshold and stands there still twitching with nerves. A suddenly horrible thought blasts over me. "Is it Henry?"

"No!" His denial is immediate and vehement, calming my alarm. Pulling off the heavy knit cap, he rakes a gloved hand through the matted gold strands, distracting me, despite the situation. "Look, I just wanted to say I'm sorry. I totally forgot to keep my hands to myself 'cause we didn't use protection and I never even thought to bring it up. This is so new, but that's such a stupid, lame excuse..."

It takes a moment to decipher the agitated rambling and I huff humorlessly, silencing him with a practiced glare. 

"You don't want to end up in that same awkward position that led to Henry? Only in reverse."

It's a low blow, but Emma only nods, clearly too miserable to take offense. Hands on my hips, I debate for a moment but find myself telling the truth. 

"You've no cause for alarm, I assure you."

Confusion almost makes him adorable and I wave off any words forthcoming. Really, I am far too sober for this.

"I cannot have children. My mother made quite certain of that." There is still no comprehension in the pale eyes, winter gray with stress. "A curse, Emma, surely you understand that. Mother felt it far more important to concentrate on young Snow," I can't stop the spit of old hate on that name, "than be distracted by a child of my own. Love is weakness, remember?"

I hadn't meant that last statement to sound so weak, so... hurt. Comprehension and an echoed hurt floods over the sensitive, handsome face, his hand raising as though to touch me. Too brittle for kindness, I hug myself for fear I will fly apart and nod to the door.

"So, you have no cause for fear of repercussions from our liaison."

Even now, he can't help but try to save me again, stepping forward even as I shy back. The kindness will shatter me apart and I grind out words past clenched teeth.

"Just go."

And damn him, he does.

 

Hook ++

(11-28-12)

"You seem agitated today, Sheriff."

Actually, it's a bit of an understatement. He looks conflicted and tightly wound, as has been the case for several days now.

"You look like you need-- what is that charming local colloquialism-- to get laid?"

That hard, almost angry look is actually rather intimidating. Not that I'll admit that to him. Arms crossed, he just stares until I can barely stop from squirming. Ugh, being confined like an animal is making me soft...

"Are you capable of behaving yourself?"

"Excuse me?"

"I mean it. The trash talk anyone can get used to, but can you actually live as a member of this community?"

Can I?

As time has passed and I've observed the parade of colorful characters and heard snippets of their stories, I've grown to enjoy them. I suppose, if I must, I can change my nature to become one of them. After all, there is no place for a pirate in a giant fishbowl. When I tell Emma as much, he stares for another long moment before nodding decisively.

"Okay. As of today, you are on parole. You have a room ready at Granny's Bed and Breakfast, the local inn basically, and a job at her diner. Don't be fooled by the old lady or her sweet-faced granddaughter, by the way. Either of them are perfectly capable of kicking your ass, up to and including, in the most deadly of ways. You've only seen Ruby's sweet side. And tonight is the second night of the full moon."

To my utter astonishment, the door is unlocked and he steps aside.

"There are some rules, you understand."

Nodding absently, I step out, noting that Emma locks the door behind me and strides away, still speaking.

"You have to check in every morning and every evening with myself or one of the deputies, so that we can keep track of your movements. You can't have a weapon and I've got a friend working on a more utilitarian version of your hook since the thing doesn't fit anymore and sure as hell qualifies as a weapon. We call it a prosthetic in this world, by the way, and with some tweaking, will be a hell of a lot more comfortable."

When I'd been dragged in here, I'd barely noted the strange building, but do my best to take it in now as I scurry after Emma.

"We'll see what happens in a week, okay?"

 

++ Emma ++

Well, Hook's got one thing right. I'm so stressed every muscle aches, and my constant ruthless working out is not helping. For four days I've done little but work, exercise, sleep like crap and wrestle with my rampant emotions and memories.

Cooping myself up body and soul sucks after relearning how to open up a bit.

Ruby's right where I left her, looking far too harmless and sweet for a werewolf on the second day of the full moon. Last night had been quite the education as I'd at last met her wolf self. Even with David's assurances, it had been nerve wracking. She's got two more nights yet, but at least I know that the tales of her being able to control the monster within are true.

Straightening up from her relaxed slouch against David's truck, Ruby saunters over to toss a warm coat around Hook's shoulders. Good thing too, because it's damp and cold out and our guest hasn't been outside in a long time. Breathing deeply, Hook turns her pretty face up to the sky and just stands there for a long moment. Completely understanding the freedom of open sky after being locked up, I go to the truck's rear gate where I've set up a little work space.

"C'mere, Hook. We have one last thing to try."

"The shackle?"

"Yeah, I figure our last crack at changing back is to break it. You up for it?"

"Are you?"

My mind wanders to my new life, this new body, the memories of my unexpected lover, who I've been missing these last four days. 

"I still have some mixed feelings, sure, but if we're stuck like this forever, I'm okay with it."

For a moment, Hook chews her lip, before taking a deep breath and stepping over to me, extending her hand. 

"Then perhaps we should begin again. Killian Jones, former pirate. Pleased to make your acquaintance."

"Nice to meet you too, Killian." 

We shake formally on it and I gesture over to the truck. The shackle is already in the vice clamped tightly to the tailgate, the final loop linking shackle and chain facing up. Grabbing up a chunk of heavy, narrow steel I'd found at Michael's shop, I carefully jam it into the small, golden loop. 

"You push, I'll pull."

Setting the elbow of the stumpy arm and the good hand on the bar, she nods and we both put our backs into it. Grunting with effort, we're finally rewarded with a snap and go sprawling.

"This would have been far more pleasurable the other way 'round," Hook, err, Killian chuckles where she's sprawled all over me, the bar digging into our guts.

"Oh shut up and get off me."

We sit there in the rain for a moment, both mulling over the big, fat bupkiss resulting from our efforts. Then Killian sighs and rakes back dark hair away from her face. 

"So, it appears only one avenue of effort remains. Break the shackle itself."

Sighing with resignation, I look up at the vice and rub my skull where I whacked it on the street. 

"Yep. So let's give it a shot."

With a somewhat resigned attitude we set up once more, threading the bar through the shackle and bracing ourselves for the effort.

And then we heave.

 

++ Regina ++

I'd lasted a full day and a half, pacing the house like a caged ogre, Henry's eyes wary, before breaking down. Telling the whole sordid story to Archie had been like chewing gravel, but the task came easier and easier as the words poured out. Even Pongo had stared at me, pacing back and forth across Archie's office. Eventually I'd calmed enough to sit and listened to gentle questions aimed at letting my own mind clarify what I am feeling.

Clearly sensing how raw and unbalanced I feel, Henry asked me if he could spend the night at his grandparent's place last night. After all the time spent desperately missing him, it had been a shock to be grateful to send him away. This time is not like the last one, his quick, hard hug and crooked smile reassuring me as he'd run out to David's truck at the curb.

That has left me to brood endlessly, examining the whirling throb of magic within me not unlike worrying an aching tooth. The pain is almost a relief...

A sharp sensation flash-firing across my nerves and the rap of knuckles on my door is a relief. I know who it is, for the pull is unmistakable. 

"Here we are again," I greet Emma quietly after opening the door. Today is not so cold, the heavy cloud cover blanketing the town I crafted so carefully.

"I wanted to apologize."

Clearly, that was not easy to say, Emma's bearded face working around the words as though they don't quite fit in his mouth. I know how he feels.

"For what?" I sigh in resignation that I am being dragged into this painfully awkward conversation, such as it is. When I walk back into the living room, he steps in and locks up before stripping off his coat and joining me.

"For inadvertently being party to hurting you again."

Despite the words being effectively what I expected from True Love's golden child, the words both soothe and irritate me. 

"Not your fault," I manage to say, internally wrestling with so many conflicting emotions. This reawakened heart is an unmanageable burden sometimes. "My scars are my own."

Not the kindest choice of words, as his expression twitches into a near-wince, but the best I can manage. The alternative would be... unacceptable.

And yet, I am truly glad that he's here. 

Even if I can't quite communicate that yet.

 

++ Emma ++

Trying not to scream from the tension in the room, I rub my face none to gently before grinding the heels of my hands into my eyesockets, trying to scrub away the ache building there. Guess I smacked my head harder than I thought...

C'mon Emma, you can do this. She's just a woman under all the ice and fire and whirling smoke, just like any other woman. Conflict over what happened with Cora, my own lusty wants and too many murky emotions are making me a basket case.

Struggling for calm makes me shudder and breathe deeply before I can look at Regina again. Her expression is calm and aloof, but there's a look in her eye, vulnerable and very, very dangerous. She looks so regal curled up casually at one end of the remaining living room couch, every inch the elegant royal.

Despite my feeling like some kind of desperate peasant, she is enticingly sexy and I clear my throat roughly. Half worried I'm going to get kicked away like an annoying dog, I scoot closer, tempted to keep an eye out on her feet. Actually, that's a good place to test the waters.

Watching my own hand carefully to make sure I judge the distance right, I reach out to trail gentle fingertips over one sculpted ankle, skirting over the hard seam of the brutal stiletto familiar on her feet. Bones lie close against her soft skin, creating the upper arch, the sturdy joint of tiny interlocked pieces connecting foot to leg, the jutting anchor points on either side of her ankle.

Past all that silky hardness, her calf is luxurious, a smooth expanse of her amazing skin that I cannot resist smoothing my bold hand over the softness. The way she is curled up, my fingertips can't help but brush her thigh and I relax just a bit when she makes a faint noise deep in her throat. That could be a tickle, but I hope it's something more. Our one night stand gave me no real chance to explore these less obviously erotic parts of her lush body, and I'm completely enthralled now.

Strong fingers tickle past my ears, combing down to the nape of my neck and tugging. I let her reel me in, returning the intense stare through thick gold lashes, not quite looking at her fully yet. Her painted lips press to my temple to breathe hotly through the shaggy hair there. The other hand coaxes mine to the curve of her thigh, tracing the bones in my wrist.

"If this is some sort of play for a pity fuck, my tolerance for that sort of manipulation is quite low."

Chuckling humorlessly, I shift closer, caressing over her gorgeous backside to the small of her back, tugging her towards me, her legs unfolding from the edge of the couch, her hand feeling the muscles in my arm.

"Yeah, that would be annoying, if that's what my intent was, but it's not, so put the claws away, sexy lady."

Somehow, I'm not surprised when that gentle hand at the nape of my neck flexes, sharp nails digging painfully into my scalp. There's a lesser sting just above my elbow and I surge into her smaller body, pressing her into the cushions, hovering over her with animal intent.

"You don't like your woman with claws?" she purrs teasingly like a hungry tiger. As if I need to be reminded how dangerous she can be! The use of the singular 'woman' is sweetly possessive and I wonder if she even realizes that she used it.

"Clearly I do, woman."


	14. Moon Shine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things actually seem to be settling into some semblance of order. Could all of this work out?
> 
> And the start of the 'apple tree scene' which is a personal favorite of the author's...

++ Regina ++

Having proven that I am not to be taken for granted, I am content to allow Emma some dominance for now. Besides, I am feeling the very real need to lose myself in the carnal delights of my handsome lover. Nuzzling at my jaw, Emma settles his body against mine, tucking me partially beneath him to be kissed lingeringly. 

"For a clumsy oaf, you're very good at that."

The comment could be taken as bitchy if I didn't sound so hopelessly breathless.

"Oh, I didn't know you cared," he laughs and presses close to mouth at my neck while his hand smoothes over my hip and thigh. While my neck has always been an erogenous zone, his attention proves that I have overestimated the power it holds over my libido. "Glad you like this."

The murmur is soft and almost shy and I find myself hugging him close.

"I do. Thank you for coming to see me."

"Couldn't seem to stay away."

It's a vulnerable admission and one that I feel myself.

"I'm glad."

Leery of our emotional state, I make a sultry suggestion of moving the entertainment into the bedroom, slithering away from Emma's embrace. With my best strut, I lead the way, sitting on the bed to encourage my new lover. It's a good sign that he's already stripped off suspenders and t-shirt.

"Are you going to finish up?"

My suggestive question makes him chuckle throatily and reach for the buttons on his pants. I certainly have no complaints about the show! Beneath the heavy, camel-colored fabric is a surprise that makes me sit up and take notice. 

"Like those?" Emma asks slyly and lets the warm pants fall away from his hips. His masculine equipment is cradled safe and snug in what is little more than a bright green elastic band and a stretchy pouch in a deep blue with a bikini back. It's both sexy and makes me pleasantly embarrassed at the sensuality of the skimpy underwear. Smoothing fingers over the tight elastic waistband, he speaks again, his tone both conversational and seductive. "I used to wear the woman's version of these exclusively, as you may remember from my second day here." 

We share a commiserating glance in remembering of that memorable second meeting when my new nemesis had answered her door in little more than her mismatched underthings and a see-through tank top. 

"No more hot pink for me though, which is kind of a bummer. They don't make guy's underwear in colors like that, but these were a fun second best. The tighty-whities were better than nothing, but frankly, the support sucks and I'm still not comfortable with all these dangly bits. And it seemed weird to dress up this fine bod in boy's underwear. So I’m jazzed that I found these and they came well-recommended on Amazon. After a ton of research, compared to a bunch of brands and styles I looked at, they're a hell of a let more discrete in the 'hey, here's my junk' department too."

The choice of words makes me laugh, but he does have a point. The shape of the front pouch does highlight his assets nicely without being tacky.

"Cocksox?" I chuckle, tracing the name stitched into the elastic waistband. "Cute."

 

++ Emma ++

The brand name had made me laugh too. It's one of the things that had sold me on them over all the others I'd waded through. That, and the pictures of how the underwear would make the package look. Some of the underwear out there for men is downright absurd in a borderline porny kinda way and I'd have felt ridiculous being that obvious. 

It had been fun and kinda strange, admiring the men on the computer screen, remembering how they would have made me feel so recently. The attraction is still there, I know that now, but I still feel sorta... disjointed from it. Shame our society can still be so stupid about being gay or bisexual or curious. Kinda puts a dent in any experimenting I might want to try out someday. Though right now, this hot woman who is no longer my enemy is far to enticing to let my eye wander!

I have to be honest with myself that I'm nervous. This is still very, very new to me, the sensations of this changed body. And I feel so much now! Not meaning just the obvious nerve center of my stirring dick, either.

"They're somewhat like the male version of a bustier."

Remembering some of the pictures in Henry's book of her old, evil self and the over the top costumes, hair and cleavage, I chuckle.

"Well, you'd know."

"Hilarious," she sasses dryly. "Don't quit your day job."

Like that first time, her hands are gentle and curious on my torso. Then we both feel that not-yet-familiar spark of magic and mutually recoil.

"Man, I am never going to get used to that," I grumble, rubbing my belly where her fingers had been a moment ago. I also notice that my nipples are as hard as hers and my new underwear is growing quite snug.

"Not a fluke then," Regina muses thoughtfully, but that husky note tells me she's not nearly as unaffected as the words might suggest. "I have to say I’m not thrilled that I cannot seem to control that."

"Yeah, no argument there. Gimmie a minute to concentrate."

With those expressive brown eyes heavy on me, I do my best to focus and ignore the pulse of need firing up my nervous system. The blaze of what I now know is my 'child of True Love' juju fluctuates with my emotions and my proximity to Regina. Scrubbing at my face with open hands, I focus intently, visualizing the fire, condensing it down, brighter and smaller, until calm replaces the chaotic heat.

"We really are opposites, aren't we? My chaos to your focus. My instincts to your intellect. Ironic that."

 

++ Regina ++

It's an oversimplification, but not an inaccurate one. What he does so easily, took me years of learning and loss to master. Even that isn't completely true, for I truly don't understand exactly what it is that he does. At times, he seems to be little more than a great font of arcane energy and at times that power is as focused as any hard-won spell.

And I can admit the attraction of that bright, hot magic that comforts me with a power that doesn't ask so high a toll of me. Being able to keep my soul and sanity in the face of the price of magic is even more appealing now than the power itself.

During my musings, I've been unbuttoning my shirt while admiring Emma's body. Despite the distractions of our strange magics, I cannot deny the carnal pull to him any more than I can forget our first night together. 

"Give you a hand?"

My mind has wandered and I'm slightly taken aback by the handsome face so close to my own, his breath warm on my chin. A lingering, lusty kiss stills my hands and drags me once more under his spell. With big, gentle hands, he coaxes me to lie flat, pressing his weight over mine, ratcheting up my need for him. 

Emma's kisses are sloppy and at the moment several strands of hair are trapped under his elbow, tugging at my scalp. Strangely, I find I like the sweaty rawness of us together. Having decorum and finesse stripped away is... freeing.

Suckling at Emma's bottom lip, I run my tongue over the coarse hairs there, opening my eyes to watch his expression. Though I think some of that tight scowl between his brows isn't just pleasure.

"Are you okay?"

Green eyes blink open and I can see that I'm right. There are lines of tension there, making the color dark and clearly contrasting with the pleasure his body is feeling.

"I'm sorry, Regina. I smacked my head on the street earlier and it's starting to throb again."

His tone would be whiny if he weren't clearly hurting. But his aroused body isn't calming either. So, I push gently at his chest and smile.

"Okay, then let's try something different. Lie back and relax and I'll do the hard work. Besides, I like being bossy anyway."

Chuckling, Emma gives me a quick kiss and moves away to situate himself comfortably, immediately relaxing.

"Just close your eyes," I encourage softly and run my open hands over his chest to his throat and up to his temple. "I promise not to do anything dangerous... or unexpected."

 

++ Emma ++

The sly humor hiding in this tightly wound woman always delights me.

"Dangerous or unexpected, huh? I'll keep that in mind."

As if being with her isn't exactly that. 

While she gently caresses my aching skull, her body heat close to my side, I coil up my right arm so that I can lazily touch her.

"How did you hurt yourself?"

Regina's voice is a low, sensual purr, drugging away the tension in my skull. Her fingers trace over my facial features and the column of my throat. Interesting that there isn't even a hint of fear at her touch on so vulnerable a spot. 

"Killian and I broke the shackle this afternoon."

Her hand stills for a moment before continuing over my collarbones.

"Well, I see nothing came of it."

"No. So, I guess this really is me for good now. Truthfully, I'm okay with it. 'Specially now."

With a thoughtful sound, Regina shifts and that luscious mouth on my sternum reminds my body that I’m here for more than just conversation. Briefly opening my eyes, I watch her kiss across my pale skin, her expression calm and intense. It feels every bit as good to provide her some calm as it does to fool around with her. But that coherent thought fritzes out when her hand wanders downward, tracing my abs and tickling my bellybutton. Yeah, I know where this is headed, but I'm hoping for something more intimate.

"Hey," I coax gently, "as much as like your touch, gorgeous. I'd like to take care of you too."

There's an odd pause as she looks at me with vulnerable eyes, before she scrambles from the bed and efficiently strips down. Someday, I'm gonna have to ask her to do that nice and slow... But, for now, I'll enjoy the quick show and start shimmying out of my now uncomfortable briefs in anticipation of what's next.

The woman's eyes are a dead giveaway to what she's paying attention too, not to mention her mood. I really don't think that she was always this expressive and the openness is proof that I'm under her skin at least a little bit. The dark gaze is glued to my hand, lingering near my rigid hard on where I’ve now stopped struggling with my underwear. Curious and kinda stupidly embarrassed, I pause for a moment before swallowing down a ridiculous case of nerves. Really, after what we've done together, I’m getting weird about touching myself? Get real, Emma.

But it does still feel a little odd, even after nearly a month wearing this shape.

 

++ Regina ++

I would have never guessed how sexy it would be to watch his big hand trailing over the stiff erection curled towards his muscled belly. Really, he is impossibly gorgeous and irresistible. More than ready for these adult games, I return to the bed, crawling over his prone body to kiss him lingeringly. When I lean back, intent on mounting him, he surprises me by kissing the palm I've been stroking his face with.

"Oh," is all I can articulate at the jolt of sensation that feels as though it races from my hand to my heart to my groin. Unfortunately for the intense moment, Emma winces again, eyes closing, and he rubs his forehead.

"Don't tease," he pleads quietly. "Please."

Who am I to resist such a sweet plea? Placing my hand over his, together we get his shaft at a good angle and I gratefully welcome him back into the haven of my ready body. Blowing out a hard breath, Emma arches his back and I hunch over to kiss at his displayed chest. Quietly groaning in sync to the movement of my body over his, Emma is clearly lost in the carnal sensations between us, expression blissful and pained. Poor thing.

Stroking the tense brow, I keep my rocking gentle-- despite wanting to rush the building orgasm-- and Emma's strong hands on my hips grow tighter. Abruptly, his body curls up towards mine with a stuttered groan and I can feel the throbbing pressure of his release.

"Sorry," he breathes gently against my ear, sensing my disappointment. "Just give me a sec to catch my breath..."

Despite my jangling arousal, left stranded in mid step, I’m aware enough to be gratified that he's still cognizant of me. Always nice to be appreciated by a lover as more than a warm body. Before my thoughts can take a dark turn, Emma has bodily moved me to my back and one big hand slithers down between us. His handsome face, eyes mere slits of concentration, is as intent as that exploring hand mapping the wet between my thighs.

In some ways, the press of his sensitive fingers is even more pleasurable than the blunt length of his erect shaft. There's a deliberateness to the touch, rubbing curiously at my excited flesh. Huffing out a harsh breath, I cling to Emma's waist and reach out to grab a pillow to shove under our heads so that I can kiss him comfortably.

"A little harder," I force out the words as coherently as I can. "Please."

The plea comes from somewhere in my body and soul I don't even know anymore. I don't beg... but he responds, his touch firming, a curious finger slipping within. Thrusting against his hand, I bite down on my wanton noises, concentrating on the fine, mundane magic between us.

 

++ Snow ++

Running this town is harder than it looks. How I long for the simple days of my class of ten year olds. If it weren't for Annie having been Regina's secretary all these years, the task would be impossible. The red head really does the bulk of the work, since I'm learning on the job, and keeps me cheerful with her lovely voice and her odd use of certain mundane objects.

The fork is the really strange one.

Annie's electronically broadcast voice breaks into my musings, a welcome respite. "Snow, you have a guest."

Before I can reply, the double doors open dramatically and there's my grown child, smiling warmly.

"Well, this is a pleasant surprise. You look far more cheerful than you have for the last few days."

Shrugging, Emma strides over and settles to the guest chair while he looks around. 

"I worked a few things out. You haven't changed this place much."

He's right, I haven't. The rooms have been stripped of Regina's accessories, and I have brought over a few treasures of my own, but they really don't fit the décor.

"It seemed wasteful to worry over changing the décor. Everything is functional and well thought out. And Regina has always been elegant."

Nodding, he sets down the pair of bags he's carrying at the edge of the heavy stone desk and flashes me an apologetic smile.

"Sheriff department paperwork."

My groan isn't feigned and fight the urge to smack my head against the desk.

"But, I brought you lunch to make up for it."

"Bless you, Emma."

"Tough gig, huh?"

Part of me hates showing weakness, but Emma is family and my heir. Pulling punches would not be fair.

"Yes, but only because of the mundane details. Leadership comes naturally to our line." 

It sounds egotistical, I know. Certainly by the standards of this world. But it's still truth. For a moment, Emma eyes me oddly, a calculating and contemplative regard, before shrugging and going for his paperwork.

There must be some way to encourage this frustrating child to accept his royal heritage...

 

++ Emma ++

Well, the afternoon goes more smoothly than I had expected, since I showed up unannounced with extra work and all. It's odd to be in this room with someone other than Regina holding court. It's almost... uncomfortable. A clear illustration of how the reawakened population of the Enchanted Forest sees life so differently than I. In this world, no one could just take over running the town without some sort of legal procedure. Yeah, obviously the town wasn't going to tolerate Regina remaining in control, but this feels weird to me.

I'm not real big on feudalism, no.

"Okay, I think that's everything. We good for now?"

Humming distractedly, Mary Margaret flips through the piles of paperwork and abruptly comes up with one and hands it over.

"Missed one."

Quickly scrawling my abysmal signature and birth date, I hand it back over and continue getting my things together.

"We missed your birthday."

Startled at the statement, I turn to look at my mother.

"Yeah, I guess it did get forgotten. Lost in that damn forest and all that. Don't sweat it. Next one'll be the big three-oh anyway."

Then I suddenly lose control of the situation and before I know it, I've been volunteered for a girl's night out. Though, despite my obvious discomfort, I have to agree with Mary Margaret that it has been awhile... Oh well, if nothing else, it'll give me a chance to ogle the limited meat market of Storybrooke and explore more of how my appetites lie now.

As much as I'd like to have Regina there, I'll keep the peace and not spring any surprises on friends and family. What a depressing situation this is...

Luckily for my mood, I actually have things to keep me busy today. Finishing up, I note I even have time for a leisurely drive around town to eyeball things. By the time I get back to the sheriff’s station, David's there to take over and he's brought the girls along.

"Alex, baby girl!" I yell, ignoring the women in favor of the ridiculously cute infant who a grinning Ashley hold up for kisses. "You're making the rest of us look bad."

I get my hair yanked for that one, by Alexandra and Ruby both. 

"Speak for yourself, Sasquatch!"

 

++ Regina ++

It's been a quiet evening, punctuated only by a mild temper tantrum by Henry that we managed to find a compromise both parties could live with. Years ago, I could have never imagined that the insanity of puberty would be mixed up in all this 'my curse broken by the savior' crap.

That thought naturally brings me back to my lover, a naughty smile playing about my mouth. I'm so glad he returned to me this afternoon. I have been... unsettled lately and his presence, no matter how brief, soothes my ragged edges. My demons are quieter with my hero in my life.

Now, if only this sharp pain in my guts would go away, my day would be pretty decent. Oh well, I'm exhausted anyhow and an early night can't hurt. So I go through my usual routine of checking locks and shutting off lights and fireplaces. Henry's light is out as I peer down the short hallway upstairs, and I habitually ignore the glow of his flashlight.

My room is cool and dim, necessitating starting the fire I'd prepared this morning. It's a habit from childhood when wood and flame were the only source of heat and cooking. Since I'm not feeling well, a disconcerting sensation as I've always been unusually healthy, tonight will be about my comfort. Since my evil reputation is ruined anyway, I may as well pull out my lone pair of flannel pajamas, a threadbare relic from Christmases gone by. The set is one of my favorite memories from Henry.

With the room warming and my body draped in warm cotton flannel, I climb into my big bed and snuggle down.

An unexpected sound carries, warm and melodic through the quiet, moonlit night. A voice, raised in mournful wolf song that carries far and wide. Right, the full moon. Henry had given me the basic story of how Red remembered how to control the wolf.

Then, there's an answering howl... from my front yard.

Scrambling from the bed, I go for the window, yanking open the curtains and peering into the night. Is that someone out there? Even as the most primitive parts of my lizard brain gear up for a good panic, I feel the electric frisson of magical connection and yank open the window. Thrusting my upper body into the chill night, I hiss out a loud whisper.

"Emma, are you insane?"

Laughing, he tilts his head back and howls again, the sound echoed back from a distance. Then he turns back to the house, striding over to stand under my window and grin up at me.

"I wanted a happy birthday from you."

Of all the odd things I may have been able to imagine on such short notice, that was not one of them. So, my brain settles for something inane. 

"It's your birthday?"

"Nope. Missed it on my whirlwind tour of the homeland. But this is better late than never, huh?"

Filing away the need to find out the exact date of his... her birth, I shake my head indulgently.

"Give me a moment to come down."

Stomping my feet into some warmly lined boots, I grab a spare blanket and creep downstairs, grateful there is no sound from Henry's room. Outside, the yard and walkway are empty and I have an insane moment of wondering if I'd dreamed the whole thing.

 

++ Emma ++

Dunno why it caught my eye, but I find myself at the west side of the house, looking at the apple tree I mauled. That feels so long ago. I hear the front door open and shut, but I stay where I am, knowing that she'll find me. Sure enough, Regina pads over to stand beside me and I smile faintly at her. The heat of magic and lust tickles at my body and soul, a sensation I'm learning to crave.

Wrapped in a blanket, luminous in the moonlight, the woman looks almost childlike and impossibly enticing. So, I give into my impulsive nature and quickly herd her over to the big pergola and the enormous chimney. Relying on the night-dark brick to camouflage us, I lean my body against the cold bricks and yank Regina's small body close.

There's no resistance to my advances, her mouth open and willing under mine, slim arms tight around my neck. I'm careful that my own embrace keeps the blanket close to her thinly-clad body, warm and soft against mine.

"You've been drinking."

"Only a bit," I chuckle warmly against her lips. "I got dragged out for a 'girl's night out'. It was fun, but I was wishing you'd been there."

That earns me a disbelieving and hopeful look and I give her some emotional space with a quick kiss and hug before setting her away from me and wrapping her up tight again. A gesture to the open lawn beyond the pergola's broken shadows makes her eyes drift over.

"Your tree looks kinda beat up still. Would you like to take a crack at fixing it up a bit? The magic feels different tonight and I could use some practice."

"I can't. I promised Henry I wouldn't use magic, remember?"

"Right, sorry. Will you spot me then? Maybe give me some direction? You're the only teacher I've got."

With a last, quick smootch, I stride out into the bright moonlight and through the grass to the handsome apple tree. Both times I've been close to the poor thing, it's come to harm and I find myself feeling bad about that. Faint glitters of glass still sparkle in its scarred bark and amid the thin winter grass. Sensing Regina and her smoky magics drawing close, I place a warm hand on the rough bark of the tree.

"I'm sorry," I whisper sincerely and startle at the pulse of powerful life there, in this seemingly still life of wood and leaf.

"My father and I planted that tree when I was a girl," Regina volunteers quietly. "It has always had sentimental value and is very... magically active, for lack of a better word. It reflects my power and my path. It certainly looks better than it did during some phases of my life."

"I can feel it."

It's a loaded comment that neither of us is entirely comfortable with. But I've started something here I feel a real desire to finish. So I focus on the hot fire of the magics I got from True Love, wondering if the tree would like some help. It feels like I'm asking through the touch of my hands to the weathered bark.


	15. Building Normalcy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma and Regina grow more comfortable with each other and Ruby gets enlightened.

++ Regina ++

He is truly confounding, utterly unlike anything familiar to me in so many ways.

Even without touching either man or tree, I feel the throbbing pulse of magic building, in slow almost sensual ways. My body can't help but react to the energy and I am now throbbingly aroused. Humming tunelessly, as though he hasn't a care in the world, Emma caresses the tree and suddenly reaches out to yank me to his body and bury his face in my hair.

With a bruising kiss, we are suddenly surrounded by a slow cloud of glittering glass fragments and I pull away from Emma with a gasp of instinctual fear. The memories of this innocuous substance used as a weapon against me and the son I love is still far too close.

I can almost feel Mother's ghost.

"Sorry," Emma murmurs, face tensing in concentration and the glass whirls away like snowflakes to settle in a neat pile on the deck beneath the pergola. Then, I am suddenly yanked nearly off my feet, pressed between Emma's hard body and the unforgiving trunk of my tree.

Then suddenly I'm gripped in another flashback, remembering that vivid dream of being dragged from my house by the Emma that he was, surrounded by those that love her, tied to my tree, her hand hard on my throat. The flash of sharp sword steel, waking frightened and alone with my life fallen apart around me.

But this time is different, this version of the Savior no threat, but needy and amorous. But it's too much, the suffocating press of magic from all sides from him, from the living plant that is so much a part of me, from the richness of the full moon.

"Emma, stop."

The protest is weak, but he jumps back as though burned. The moonlight seems to have pooled in his eyes and his expression is shocked and a little horrified. Leaning over to brace myself with hands on my knees, I fight for a calm that comes far more easily than I would have thought.

"I'm... I'm sorry."

"Not your fault," I tell Emma sincerely and straighten up again, back and fanny still pressed to the tree. "Come here. I can feel that you're calm again."

Exactly as I said, his magics are tightly leashed, the feel of them small and white-hot as he steps nervously close. Sighing affectionately, I grab his belt and jerk hard so that he stumbles heavily into me.

"This might be a new favorite spot." My throaty voice is laced with very real need, all the magics leaving me wet and wanting. My fingertips rub lightly at the bulge beneath his belt. "Promise me someday we'll do this right here, under the stars."

His groan is proof that it isn't just me that finds the idea appealing.

 

++ Emma ++

Brain dizzy with all the stimulation, I can't fight Regina's kiss, the amorous press of her body, the visceral relief of heavy clouds suddenly rolling over the blazing moon. Groaning softly in the quiet night, I hunch closer, feeling the tree scrape at my knee when I press it between Regina's, seeking her heat.

"Why not now?"

Giggling together through our wet kisses, the idea seems like a good one even as Regina shivers in the sharpening temperatures. Moaning, she seems unaware of the cold and I'm having a tough time thinking clearly myself. But I still can't ignore wanting her to be safe and, in this case, not getting a dangerous chill.

Teeth at my lower lip are dangerous and hot as hell, nearly derailing my best intentions.

"Think you can manage it, sexy?"

"Sounds like a dare to me," I growl, wrapping big hands around her lush ass to yank at the soft pajama bottoms. This is going to take some coordination I'm not entirely certain that I even have, but we're clearly horny enough to give it a shot. Regina fumbles at my pants, yanking the buttons open but leaving the belt in place. Smart woman! With a tug at my bikini briefs, she can easily fish out the straining hard on and the cold as much as sexual need has me straining to get closer to her.

"I've got the blanket," I husk as quietly as I can. "So you're in the driver's seat."

"Mmm, just how I like it," she hums dirtily, making me groan and fist my hands into the blanket to toss the leading edge over her shoulders. Drawing my hands to my waist, I get us both covered up, holding back the worst of the chill. "Help me get these damn things down. I'll get the blanket."

"You just want me to have a hand free," I tease breathlessly as she reaches over my shoulder to pull up the blanket like a curtain. That leaves me to smooth my newly freed digits over her naked hip-- jazzed to find no underwear-- and down her thigh to push away the flannel as far as possible with her boots still on.

"Well, I have no complaints."

To shut up our mutual giggling, I kiss her hard, getting in behind her teeth and muffling our moans as my hand slips back up, drawing her left thigh higher and opening her up. Dizzy with need, I do my best to figure out the mechanics of sex standing up in this body, relying on memories of being on the receiving end.

It's not graceful, but I manage to reach around her, stroking that fine fanny before reaching down to give her a quick tickle that earns a high-pitched sound I hope won't bring the nearby neighbors running. Then, I can feel around for my own erection and get it lined up with shaking fingertips to the warm wet I've gotten hooked on.

Both of us make an animalistic sound as we are joined again.

 

++ Regina ++

Clinging hard to both the blanket and Emma's neck, I relish not just his deep thrust, but the raw strength in his muscled body. This can't be an easy position, bent-kneed as he is to accommodate my smaller stature. But even as raw as this is, rutting against the unforgiving pillar of the apple tree, he is still so very careful to be gentle.

I really want to feel the leather jacket against my breasts and use my free hand to fumble at the buttons, wincing a bit as his belt buckle bites into my pubis, necessitating a position change.

"Stop moving for a moment," I whisper hoarsely, relishing his low note of distress. But he obeys, muscles quivering with the effort. His free hand digs hard into my backside as I tilt my hips towards his, settling his erection more firmly into the clutch of my body. "Much better."

I'm going to be sore all over tomorrow, but as he carefully begins to once more make love to me, I find I just can't care.

Perhaps it is the very public and illicit nature of what we are doing, but the urgency between us is sharp and hot and quickly spiraling out of control. Part of me hears our growing chorus of sexy sounds, worries for our scant privacy, so I clamp my free hand over his mouth, sinking my own teeth into the collar of his jacket.

When Emma licks and suckles at the new scar at the base of my thumb, teeth scraping the raw skin, it sends a jolt of pleasure through my nervous system that sends my hips jerking hard against his. Really, I would have thought the reminder of my wounded tree, the terror of the last time my mother could torture me would be like a bucket of ice water. Clearly, I have underestimated our connection again. That sane corner of my mind continues to marvel at the new hot spot, even as my lover exploits it, his lusty sounds muffled.

I press my face to his neck hard enough that it must hurt, and embrace the firestorm of orgasm bearing down on me like a flood. Stuttering out a harsh sound, Emma bites my hand, worrying at the scar and I relish the final push to my own release.

With a mutual grunt, we are suddenly sprawled out in the damp grass, the blanket settling over us.

"Christ," Emma gasps breathlessly and hugs me hard. "You are wild, woman."

Before I can reply to the admiring tone of his voice, we both startle as something thumps to the ground beside us. A pool of bright moonlight drifts over us, a distant hole in the clouds, and the silvery light twinkles over the perfect blood-red skin of an apple. Craning my head up, I see others, just as perfect, nestled amidst a flush of greenery completely at odds to the chilly season.

My strangled squeak of laughter is pure delight and I look back to my lover's wry grin.

"Reflects your power, huh?"

Our combined laughter assuredly wakes the neighbors and sends us scrambling for the haven of the house, taking the ripe gift with us.

 

++ Emma ++

(12-1-12)

It hadn't been easy to coax Regina into the shopping trip, but she really needs to get out of that house. And what better bait than to replace some of the things destroyed in the face off with mommy dearest?

The kitchen and bath supply stop had bored Henry and I in equal measures, but trading glares to behave had gotten us through it and clearly cheered Regina up greatly. So, it was worth it. Now, we're headed for the only decent furniture place in town to look for a couch. I have a soft spot for the smallish, formal thing left all on its lonesome in her living room-- it takes effort to swallow a naughty smile-- but that big room desperately needs some warm furniture in it.

"Come on, what's wrong with red?"

I've been needling her playfully all day about a red couch because it's hilarious to watch her glower impotently. Oh, she'll get me back at some point, but isn't that half the fun?

"Not in my living room, you don't."

Hopping out at our stop, I let Henry out of the back of the Benz and trot over to hold open the door to the shop. Bowing with a grand gesture, I grin at her.

"Madame."

"Don't expect a tip."

While we snark back and forth, Henry leads the way into the dusty sea of couches and tables and accessories. Honestly, I’ve never been in a shop like this. Who needs all this expensive wood and leather and upholstery when there's an Ikea in every major town? 

As much as I hate letting Regina out of my sight, I suppose I better keep an eye on the bored eleven year old.

"Henry?"

There's no reaction to my call and my eyes narrow. He better be somewhere at least sorta close by...

The surprise attack is half-expected, but still makes me jump as Henry leaps out from behind a tall headboard with a movie monster roar. Delighted with himself, he laughs and dodges my halfhearted swipe to grab him. 

"Oh, you're gonna get it now!"

There's no actual threat to my voice and he laughs harder, scampering away and making me give chase. We're gonna get yelled at, but it's worth to bleed off some of the boredom making us both twitchy. Sure enough, we get an exasperated glare as I manage to scoop the boy up and we grin apologetically at Regina. She rolls her eyes, but she smiles faintly too, so it's a win in my book.

"Squirmy," I admonish Henry fondly as I keep locked under one thick arm. "No kicking. Come help me find a cool couch. Because we're probably gonna have to sell it to your mom."

 

++ Regina ++

Yes, I want to growl at the children to behave, because, really, do they have to act like animals in public? But then I notice the clerk grinning at the antics and it makes me realize that I’m missing the point of the display.

They're bonding.

It's rough and tumble and completely opposite to my personality, a language I don't at all understand, but it makes Henry glow with pleasure, squirming and giggling in Emma's hold. Since they didn't manage to break anything and have calmed now, I'll just swallow back my inner control freak and let it go. 

Back to the task at hand, I find myself eying the various mirrors tucked among the accessories lining every square inch of wall space. It has been very strange and disconcerting to have no mirrors on the main level of the house, all of them smashed spectacularly in that painful debacle. It's still unnerving to remember what happened with Mother, but the scars are healing now that she is gone. And it was exactly the sort of dramatic demise that I would have expected her to conjure up.

"Hey Mom!"

The call drags my mind back to the present and I head over to Henry. Oh, I figure they're doing it on purpose, sprawled out over the most hideous floral print sectional sofa, smirking wickedly. So, I play along, crossing my arms and giving them the best narrow-eyed glare I can muster up past my own affectionate humor. 

"Really?"

In stereo, they crack up just like I expected them to. Shaking my head affectionately, I wave them off, my eye caught by a matched set of vases nearby. Those would look nice in the foyer...

When I am once more hailed, I hope their goofing off has run its course, because I'm beginning to feel worn out by the outing. But no, this time they have taken up residence on a sprawling leather sectional, it's rich surface gleaming dully in a vibrant medium brown with chocolate highlights. Henry has curled up on the sofa end, Emma sprawled out on the opposite end which is an over-wide chaise that suits his size.

Patting the cushion beside him, my lover smiles the kind of smile that makes me fight a squirm.

"Come try it out. This thing is super comfy."

As I have done before, I want to fight the insidious attraction to him, to how easily he fits into my changed life. I can easily picture this large piece of furniture against the scarred hardwood floors of my home, with my menfolk comfortable on it... just like this.

Henry's smile is as persuasive as Emma's and I can't resist sitting primly between them. It is indeed comfortable and, with a little effort, could work with my remaining things. Like the man sprawled out beside me, I can make it work.

Needless to say, I purchase the couch.

 

++ Emma ++

(12-2-12)

Since Regina had unbent about the oversized leather couch, Henry and I had taken over the kitchen and made dinner last night. Thankfully, I can make a decent taco bake and Henry has good knife skills, because a sharp blade in my hands is probably still a disaster waiting to happen.

I'm polishing off a bowl of leftovers while the delivery guys do their thing, shooting Regina curious glances where she watches them silently. The remaining couch from the divorced set has been pushed to the opposite side of the room and the new beast is slowly taking over the real estate in front of the fireplace. It looks better in the space than I had visualized and I can't help but eye my tense lover, imaging how her naked skin would look against the tanned hide...

"Emma?"

Nearly dropping my bowl in surprise, I focus on Henry, hoping my face isn't as red as I think it is. He looks at me oddly and I do my damned best to look as neutral as possible.

"Yeah?"

"Could you stay and watch a movie with us? Y'know, to break in the new couch?"

Oh god...

Really, I'm sure my face is aflame and I rub at my nose and cheekbones while the eleven year old eyes me with growing curiosity.

There are all sorts of ways that I'd like to break in the couch, none of which I hope have run though his mind. Really, I am really not good at this parenting thing.

Then I make the mistake of meeting Regina's eye and the way her luscious mouth curls in a sly, suggestive grin makes me turn around and walk away. At least I manage to not bolt like a horse from a burning barn...

Her throaty chuckle tells me I am so busted and I have got to find some way to get her back for upping the ante on my embarrassment. Breathing deeply for a long moment in the kitchen to calm my nerves and my stupid hormones, I fish out my phone and dial the station.

"Sheriff station."

"Hey David. Could you stay put for a couple more hours? Or forward any calls to my phone if you need to. The kid asked me to stay put and watch a movie."

"Gave you an offer you couldn't refuse, huh?"

"Oh yeah."

"Sure, I got your back."

"Thanks, I owe you."

Feeling calmer after hearing David's voice, I put on my best 'normal face' and stride out into the living room to call out cheerfully.

"Movie it is, kid. What's on the menu?"

 

++ Regina ++

(12-3-12)

Panting and winded, I cling to Emma's powerful body and relish the pulse and press of him on and in me. "You've gotten better at this," I purr, coaxing him to rest atop my smaller frame so that I can stroke the damp golden hair.

"Practice makes perfect," he groans heavily into that sensitive spot on my neck, making me shiver pleasantly. Resettling his weight, Emma props himself on both elbows and grins at me. "Maybe not perfect, but you're certainly getting more and more vocal on me."

Swatting his shoulder, I push him away, ignoring the chuckle, and sit up to stretch out my back. Lately I've been tired and stiff all the time. I blame it on delayed stress, though his loving attention certainly helps! 

A teasing hand over the curve of my spine makes me smile appreciatively to myself. His touch feels incredibly good, sensual and calming.

"Y'know, I’ve been meaning to ask you something."

And here it comes, the inevitable point when something good going my way shatters at my feet like so many mirrors I’ve smashed in my life. Why does he have to screw this up?

"I was hoping you wouldn't mind if I had Ruby to talk to about this."

Wait. What?

"She already knows about my crush and I can't help but think I must smell like you all the time now. So it's only a matter of time."

Looking over my shoulder at him, I note that his expression is neutral, if not faintly hopeful. 

"Why Ruby?"

"Because she was the only other close friend I had before everything got so damn weird in this town. And I sure as hell am not going to chat about this with the other one."

I'm certain we both shudder in horror at that thought.

After a loaded moment, Emma chuckles softly and I eye him. 

"Sorry, I just had the mental image of using Killian as a sounding board. You have to admit it's kinda funny. In a gallows humor sort of way."

"Ah yes, your pet pirate, the waitress," I comment sarcastically and feel his caressing hand grow heavy on my back and backside. "That must be quite the accomplishment."

"She's been surprisingly good company. Sorta like you."

Sweetly embarrassed, he rubs his face, the new tic that has been more and more common with time. I can't help but shiver at the rasping sound of the coarsely soft hairs on his skin sending a subtle thrill up my spine.

Some part of me might almost be... jealous. The pirate found a new beginning here, can be friends with my lover in public. But not me. The town around me is a powderkeg and I’m quite aware of what a potent match I am to that explosive. I have nothing outside of Henry, and now Emma, anyway.

But sometimes....

I still can't shake the memories of so many townsfolk here for so many days, cleaning up after the violence done to me and mine. Perhaps it's time for me to unbend more. After all, he's earned the trust.

Twisting my body around, I search the hopeful green gaze and shake my head before slithering over his sweaty body. 

"I hope you know what you're doing."

Grinning, he tucks a big hand into my hair and tugs me down to be kissed. Another skill he has gotten deliriously good at. 

"Thank you, gorgeous. Now let me show you how grateful I can be."

"Oh, if you insist."

 

++ Granny ++

Smiling almost smugly, our sheriff saunters into my diner like a white-hatted hero from those westerns I love to watch. A smile easy on that handsome face makes me wish once again that I were twenty years younger. Particularly when he gives me those sweet puppy eyes.

Brat.

"Do you mind if I steal Ruby for a few? I really need to talk something out."

Much as there's a part of me that would love the gossip first hand, I nod and give Red a whole set of silent instructions only with only our eyes meeting. Some things are never forgotten.

She vanishes into the back to reappear with a sweatshirt to drag Emma outside. It's too rainy to read their lips, but the body language is fascinating. Emma is nervous, hands shoved in his back pockets, talking rapidly. My granddaughter is skeptical, then startled, then leaps on him with what is clearly a delighted squeal. Standing close, they chatter excitedly at one another and I'm abruptly reminded of the prickly outsider that came to us as a stranger, found a place among us and then saved us from our curse.

No wondered I loved that young woman, just like I love this young man she's become.

"He looks happier," Killian's voice startles me. Clearly I’ve been staring too hard to let her get away with that. "It appears that getting whatever it is off of his chest has helped. Poor thing is just a mess of emotions, isn't he?"

"Don't you be playin' that boy, girlie!"

The smile is sly and mischievous. 

"Fear not, Granny. I have no intent on the lad. Besides, Red would have my throat."

"And you promised him to behave."

"That I did. And, if nothing else, I am a... woman of my word."

I nod distractedly, because so far, Killian Jones has been a model citizen, even though I have seen her dangerous edge a few times. Carefully controlled, certainly, but I have seen it. I had a mate like that once, a lifetime ago...

Watching the youngins hug, I almost wish that they might find each other, but the chemistry is wrong and I know it. Oh well.

That boy will be hungry and that is certainly a need that I can take care of!

 

++ Killian ++

(12-5-12)

"Is all of this infernal paperwork really necessary?"

Chuckling, Ruby taps the paper, quite clearly not going to give an inch.

"If you want your gold, pirate, fill out your time card. Trust me that I have sympathy for paperwork being bullshit. Also trust me that it is indeed a necessary evil."

A necessary evil. Ironic choice of words that hit close to home. Immersed in the utterly foreign normalcy of this strange town, I have rapidly come to rely on my integration in this small establishment. Both Lucas women have been utterly invaluable in my adaptation, such as it is. Up to and including the wracking pains in my guts two days ago that led to the monthly bleed I had been pretending would not happen to me.

Really, I have no idea how I will ever thank them for what they have done for me.

Setting aside the sheet of paper that tallies the hours I have spent here at the diner, I return to my usual 'homework' of perusing Granny's favorite collection of recipes. One day all of the terms and measurements within may make sense, but for now, I still struggle with it.

"Hey Sasquatch, you look like hell," Ruby calls out jovially and I glance over to see that Emma has entered, grinning tiredly.

"I swear I will never get used to being a small town sheriff. Do you have any of that meatloaf from last night left? I will beg, borrow or steal to have some of that fried under a mess of fried egg with some hash browns. I don't give a damn that it's bad for me, I've earned it."

Laughing, Ruby passes the request back to the kitchen and I find myself visualizing that space. Just another part of this new life I have found myself in. Grunting wearily, Emma collects his coffee and settles heavily to the stool beside me.

"Mornin' Killian."

"To you as well, Emma. Tough night?"

There's a certain melancholy happiness in the handsome smile that I find myself in accordance with.

"The usual break-ins, drunk and disorderlies and cats in trees. Just a lot of it. So, it's been a week. How are you doing?"

"Has it been a week already?"

My astonishment is not feigned. The time has passed quickly and I have settled in with an ease that would have terrified me before my body had been so altered. Who knew that all I would need to do is lose everything to start over and begin to heal.

"Actually, Emma, it's been an amazing week. Would you like the highlights?"

The handsome smile warms me.

"I would be delighted."


	16. Acid Flashback

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things can never stay easy for long with our lovely twosome and a flash from the past brings some truths to light.
> 
> Spoilers for 'Tallahassee'

++ Killian ++

(12-7-12)

When a new customer walks in, I think nothing of it, flashing him a now practiced smile of welcome.

It takes a moment to notice the whole diner has gone very quiet and very still. My mind races as I look around, echoed by the stranger, who has stopped in his tracks. Several things click into place. Strangers don't come here. Ever.

And this man is obviously a stranger.

He is an ordinary-looking fellow, too soft around the mouth and jaw for my tastes, with an unkempt mop of hair that looks to never behave, no matter what he may do to it. The suit fits him uncomfortably, accenting his boyish looks. All in all, a boy pretending to be a man, no matter his chronological age.

"We don't get strangers here," I explain in as calm a tone as can be managed. Somewhere along the line, I’ve grown to like this town and its strange and yet familiar inhabitants, so my captainly instincts are roused now.

"I see that," he manages to reply quietly, clearly uncomfortable with the silent scrutiny. Unsurprisingly, since I am the only one to have interacted with him, he steps closer and tries for a smile. Tries and fails miserably. "Hey, maybe you can help me. I'm, uh, looking for someone."

"Do tell." Another tense moment passes before I somewhat impatiently prod the man. "Does your quarry bear a name, sir?"

"Yeah, yeah, of course, sorry. Her name is Emma Swan."

No one moves, the place as still as the grave, but things just went from uncomfortable to downright dangerous. The most oblivious of village idiots could feel the menace in the room and the fellow looks ready to bolt. A raised hand redistributes the energy into something less threatening and I crane my head back, never taking my eyes off of the stranger. 

"Ruby, darling? Would you be so kind as to go inform the sheriff that there is someone here looking for Miss Swan?"

There's no mistaking the faint emphasis on 'miss'.

"Look I don't want any trouble..." the stranger starts to say, but stops his annoying fidgeting when I return my full attention to him.

"No trouble, sir. Your name?"

"No, I better not. Look, I’m not gonna hurt her or anything."

My smile is thin and cold. 

"That remains to be seen."

 

++ Emma ++

Ruby comes in at a dead run, her eyes a little wild, and I’m on my feet in an instant.

"Jeezus, Rubes, what's wrong?"

"There's some strange man in the diner..." she hesitates, her expression agonized. "He asked for you by name."

"But strangers don't come here," I say dumbly. "I was pretty sure they can't."

"Us too. But he's here anyway."

Bewildered, and well aware of the prickle of danger along my nerves, I race out after Ruby, the two of us beating feet to the diner.

Then I see a familiar figure leaning up against a vehicle out front and some part of me just loses it.

"August?" Ruby's voice goes higher pitched with shock even as I launch myself. His smile evaporates and he tries to recoil, but the punch catches him full on the jaw, rocking him back onto the hood before his body crumples to the pavement.

"You son of a bitch! How dare you show your god damn face around me again! After what you did!" Groaning, August rolls onto his back and I shrug Ruby off to kneel over him. "You left me, you coward! How could you? You were supposed to protect me!"

Baffled, he holds his face with one hand and raises the other defensively, eyes on my bloodied knuckles before they take in my drastically changed face. 

"Emma?" He breathes idiotically and I fight down the urge to beat the crap out of him. "What the hell happened to you?"

"Magic, obviously," I growl and grab the lapels of his coat, levering our combined weights to get to my feet, dragging him with me. "Turns out your fucking fairytale land was chock full of nasty surprises."

"Hey! That guy's my ticket into this funhouse," shouts a voice from the direction of the diner and my blood goes ice cold. "Chill, willya?"

Eyes jerking over as the owner of the voice approaches, I can only stare in something that feels like horrified fascination. I'm too shocked to do anything as... as... Neal addresses an openly staring August with a dark chuckle. 

"Man, I had no idea you pissed this place off so bad."

Something in me snaps, agony lancing up my arm as I bash my already-damaged fist into that once-loved face with every ounce of pain in me, my agony and betrayal like a living thing inside me, clawing its way free.

 

++ Neal ++

I've been running 'what-ifs' through my head for nearly twelve years. Even since August showed me that damn surprise in the box behind his motorcycle and convinced me neither of us was insane. No matter what all those therapists and well-meaning adults had told me so long ago.

But having some crazy man roar at me and hit me so hard I’m quite sure I black out for a moment, was never one of them.

Crashing back into the railing, I collapse in an undignified heap, skull ringing. The other pretty waitress moves inhumanly fast, jumping on the guy's upraised arm and toppling them both to the street.

There are people rushing around now, voices raised, and I just curl around myself protectively and try and let my brains settle. I've had the hell beat out of me several times during my life-- hazard of living in the shadows-- but that guy smashed me like it was personal.

Great.

Some guy is crouching over me now, and I cringe away from the expected blow, but he only speaks quietly and tensely. 

"You better come inside, fella. This is going to get complicated."

Luckily for me, because I’m too damn dazed to defend myself, the big guy just lifts me by a grip on my thick jacket and a hand cupped gently around my ear to steady my head.

Someone is calling Emma's name, over and over again, a voice trying to break through panic. Wait, what? But I can't break the big stranger's gentle but granite hold as he herds me back into the diner. I'm sat in a chair and the shock of ice on my agonized face makes me fight down a strangled sob.

People flood back in, their voices loud and concerned. Dimly, through the haze, I’m aware of August sitting painfully beside me. 

"What the hell is with the kamikaze welcome wagon?"

I sound more weak than angry and August doesn't make a sound, his eyes huge in his face and his complexion ashen.

Still blurry, I think some time passes before there is a new presence close to me, a pretty face leaning in close. 

"Good thing Eh... I mean, the sheriff, caught him off guard, or would have knocked his head clean off," the big man who helped me out says, stumbling over whatever he was going to say. The woman looks distasteful before her expression is concerned once more. Her hands are gentle on my face as she looks closely.

Wait... I know her...

"Well, your eyes appear normal. That's a point in your favor," she fusses and the voice takes me back a lifetime.

Lost and frightened, my father's darkness growing ever more terrifying, I’d made a desperate gamble, calling on her for help.

"Reul Ghorm?"

She gasps, expression shocked, jerking back. But, she leans in again as I stare in wonder at the first face I recognize from my distant past.

"Baelfire?"

 

++ The Blue Fairy ++

When speculating if the outside world would intrude into our town, this would have never occurred to me.

Ever.

The teenage son of the Dark One called on me for a chance to start over again, to save himself and his father from the evils of magic. To him, I gave the last magic bean, a chance in the form of a world without magic. Who knew it led him here? Who knew losing this boy, now a man, would set in motion the events that led to Rumpelstiltskin’s curse to follow Baelfire to this world.

Who knew...

I'd wanted to stop the Dark One so badly, to save our world from at least one evil. Though I see now that coming to this world was inevitable and ironically a freedom from our greatest evils. Rumpelstiltskin, killed in revenge, though Killian Jones will still not speak of what happened in that shop, and Regina, loved by the Savior of prophesy. 

"You're really here. I was beginning to think that maybe August and me were just having the same mental breakdown."

He doesn't look anything like his younger self, a gawky boy approaching young adulthood. With effort, I look over at the larger man, trying to puzzle out who he is. Both of them know me, that much is obvious, but who...

Shocked, I realize who he must be. There is only one other who came here, who could have escaped the curse.

"Pinocchio..."

Clearly miserable, he ducks his head and nods. "You remember."

It's a comment that could be taken so many ways, but I choose the easy one. "The curse was broken, exactly as the prophesy said would happen. But we've remain trapped here and no one knows why. "

"Emma," Pinocchio whispers softly and Baelfire reaches out to grasp my arm, startling me into looking at him again. "Is Emma here? I came to... I don't know really why I came here, just that I had to see her again, try and, I dunno, clear the air."

He looks so pitiful and lost, just as so many of us brought to this world are. No words come to me, I am just far too stunned. He doesn't know any of what has happened here. How could he?

A ruckus of sound and motion brings in the third player in this new drama, making Pinocchio pale even further, his eyes huge in his face.

What to do now?

I find that I have no ready answer.

 

++ Emma ++

This seriously cannot be happening.

My past and my present colliding in a horrible mess like a twenty car pileup. Granny glowers me still once again, her deft fingers finishing wrapping my broken hand. No one has to tell me that, I can feel the agonizing grind of bones in configurations they are not meant to be in, but first...

What the fucking hell do I do about Neal?

Like panicked hamsters, my thoughts race around in my skull. How do I explain me? Or Henry? How do I keep Regina from flipping her shit over the boy's biological donor so close?

Hard fingers on my chin, pursing my lips involuntarily, bring me back, make me aware of my panicked panting, brain dizzy from lack of air. 

"Breathe," Granny orders and I have no choice to obey, the dizziness receding. "Whatever is going on, you can face it. You're not alone."

That gets through to me, that small and utterly important fact I still forget sometimes. Impossibly grateful, I try to say something, but she waves me off. 

"Save it, sonny. Now, drink this and catch your breath while I check on Ruby again."

The 'drink this' is handed over by a stone-faced Leroy, which should have warned me. The liquor burns like gasoline and I nearly choke on the fumes and my own gasp. Glowering at the dwarf, I take a deep breath and manage to get most of the poison down, heat like fire in my gut. But, as Granny knew it would, the potent drink melts the boulder in my throat and calms my pain and my panic.

When I struggle to stand, dwarven hands help out, bracing me while I regain my balance. The mother superior... err Blue Fairy, sees me move and rushes over with wide, startled eyes. 

"He's one of us."

Again, reality shifts around me.

The yellow color drew my eye to cherry antique Volkswagen, a sudden desire to have the sweet wheels. Easy to jimmy the lock, climb into the pleasantly musty space. The stranger in the back seat had nearly sent us both into a wild crash, but he'd talked me down. And managed to get that cop off my ass when I’d stupidly raced through the stop sign.

We'd been inseparable after that, my starved, foolish little girl of a heart handed to him so fast.

And, once again, it was all just stupid, preordained fate.

No one loves me for me. Only for what I was meant to be. It shouldn't hurt, but it does, tears squeezing past the old wounds.

 

++ Neal ++

Shock has burned back a lot of the haziness, which is a relief. The pain is welcome if it means I have less chance of a serious head injury. Reul Ghorm is talking softly to the big guy who hit me, his expression shocked and deeply miserable. Who is he? A lover? It's not like Emma would even think to wait for me, not after what she thinks I did...

August makes a strangled sound and I open my eyes to find the blonde guy standing over me. The expression on his face makes me fear for my safety, but also pulls me in.

"You're Rumpelstiltskin's son."

The room once more goes silent.

"All of this happened because he wanted to get to you. That's some legacy. And not at all a welcome one."

August told me everything in these last couple of weeks. All the stories of the people trapped here, and how the curse had gone down. It hurt, but I couldn't even be surprised. Father had been corrupted by the dark power long before I tried to save him. 

"Yes," I manage to say quietly and there's a near-silent ripple of reaction through the room.

"If I had the energy, I'd be pissed as hell to be manipulated once again."

Utterly confused, I can only stare at the guy and wonder why he seems so familiar.

"Neal. It's me, Emma."

The scoff of disbelief bubbles up, only to be strangled in my chest. Magic. We all come from a land of magic. And the eyes... the eyes are the same.

"Oh my god..."

"Yeah, imagine my shock when I woke up like this."

The tone is deceptively calm, his jaw working above where he cradles his busted up hand high on his chest.

"How..."

"Me 'n Captain Hook over there sorta switched." The pretty waitress who had greeted me nods her head coolly at the acknowledgment. "Now, why the hell are you here?"

 

++ August ++

"It's my fault."

The green eyes sweep from Neal to me, cold rage bright in them. I never should have left her, a lifetime ago. So much pain in this soul...

"Go on."

"I told Neal to let me turn you in. If you'd gone with him, Henry would have never come here and you would have never found your way to being the savior."

Understanding flashes in Emma's eyes and he continues to speak in that deceptively calm voice. "You were the one who got Henry here. Huh. Yeah, that makes as much sense as anything else has. Regina was an odd choice."

"She could keep him safe, and I figured he would grow to hate her and leave to find you."

I deserve the hand hands on my collar, nearly around my throat, snapping my head back into the wall behind me. I deserve any hurt I get.

"You bastard," the big man who was Emma Swan hisses with a terrifying rage twisting his whole body. "You absolute bastard. Your cowardice is stunning. Michael?"

"Yes?"

I know the woodsman's story, the same as I know everyone's. I was supposed to tell Emma the tales, give her the tools to do what she had to do. And I succeeded only at her expense. 

"Take this piece of shit to Marco. August, you man the fuck up and go see your poor father. Deal with his love and disappointment like a real boy."

The last words are spit out like broken glass and I accept them as the punishment I deserve and numbly mourn for a penance I will never earn.

As I struggle to my feet and walk towards the door like a man condemned to public execution, I’m nearly run down by Henry. Behind him, to my shock, is Regina, looking every inch as worried as the boy. Neither notices me step aside, but I notice the bond between them, repaired and tenuous, but clearly strong.

Maybe some good will come of my sins after all.

 

++ Emma ++

The kid shouting my name could not be worse timing.

"Get him out of here," I hiss at the dwarves and they converge on Neal like a school of sharks. I don't turn fast enough and Henry barrels into my back, making me cry out in pain. My whole right side hurts, muscles strained from my own violence and Ruby's expert, rough, take-down.

"You're hurt!"

His eyes are wide on my busted hand, cradled to my chest and the way I’m standing like I’m half crippled. 

"It's what I get for being violent. There's always a price, kid."

Regina reaches out, but stops up short as we arc like lightning, a tiny white flash and a puff of purple smoke.

It also has the unfortunate effect of alarming an already freaked out crowd.

"Stop it!" I roar over the rising babble, shouting them down and even both Mills shy back. "It's not her, for fuck sake! I have magic I can barely contain at my best. And I am anything but my damn best right now." Fighting for calm, I breathe harshly through my gritted teeth, shocked when Regina sets her hands on my biceps in a near-embrace.

Like smoke drawn from a roaring fire by wind, some of my stress and agony bleeds away, loosening the bands of strain strangling me. Once again, that disconcerting and strangely lovely flash of violet in Regina's eyes flares briefly to life.

"I owe you," she says simply. "Now focus."

Others are crashing into the diner now, but I do my best to ignore them, reaching deep into my shattered reserves of willpower to tamp down the raging inferno to that hot filament once again. Only then do I reach up to cup her cheek, desperately wanting to stroke my thumb over her lovely mouth. From her and back to me again, the magic ebbs and she staggers a bit.

Henry looks awed and a little alarmed as he asks, "what was that?"

I cannot look away from the hypnotic brown eyes, but I force myself to speak.

"Your mom has been helping me control my magic. By letting me keep hers under control."

It's not strictly the truth, but it will help protect Regina as the others look on with fearful awe.

"You can do that?"

"Yes," Regina quietly answers the boy, our gazes still inseparable. "He can."

Flexing my right hand proves that there are other handy benefits of that energy exchange too. With real effort, I pull my gaze away from Regina's, looking down at my purpled hand. It still aches abysmally, but the bones are solid and, pulling off the wrap, I see the bleeding has stopped. 

"Handy trick. How did you two know I was in trouble?"

"Mom did."

 

++ Regina ++

Completely unnerved by the staring crowd, I am quite happy to let Emma herd Henry and I out of the diner and onto the cold street. He's still ragged with stress, but no longer panicking like a drowning man.

The rain chooses this moment to return, earning a humorless twist of Emma's strong mouth. 

"Typical. Would you two please walk me back to the sheriff station? I owe you some explanations."

"That was him, wasn't it?"

Some spark of understanding is eluding me. Something important that I need to grasp. Twisting an obviously hurting back, Emma groans softly and I want to touch him, badly. Almost as much as I want to cling to Henry, sensing danger.

"Yes," Emma finally mumbles, his whole body defeated now, shoulders slumped. "That was your father."

Panic shrills through my brain.

Not again...

Emma suddenly grabs Henry, none to gently, the boy's arms trapped to his side, eyes wide. Emma's expression is dead serious, the eyes grave.

"Listen to me, Henry, this is important. That man doesn't even know you exist. I was in jail, locked away from society because I broke the law, when I found out about you. He's not going to be some heroic father figure to you, okay? And if you go running off to throw yourself at him, it's not just your mom's heart you're going to break this time."

The agony in the broken voice is real and Henry stares with what must be an echo of my own shock.

Half sobbing and half laughing to himself, Emma jerks his hands off of Henry and rubs his own face, hard.

"It gets better."

I have a feeling 'better' is not the applicable word here.

"He's Rumpelstiltskin's missing son. The reason all this curse shit happened."

I feel faint, wavering unsteadily on my feet, stumbling suddenly into Henry's smaller body.

"Mom!"

In a flash, Emma has grabbed me in a clutching bear hug that both terrifies and soothes me, before scooping me up like a child. We are doing it again, the firestorm of magics. Overloaded, Emma stumbles and I fear for both of our safety.

Then a new energy crashes into the private party and I hiss in reaction with Emma as the storm is shattered. To our mutual astonishment, it's August Booth, his battered face morose and apologetic. Hanging back is Michael, though he lunges forward as Emma groans and starts to collapse.

"Hey, I gotcha, Em. Hang on."

Crushed between their large bodies, I can only squeak, jostled uncomfortably, drawn away from the familiar solidity of Emma's body to be cradled to Michael's. Clearly on his last legs, Emma hangs from the arm August has pulled over his shoulders.

 

++ Granny ++

I'm not the only one who watches Emma grab Henry, his bearded face contorted in desperation and pain, the boy stiff with alarm. Regina stands by helplessly, looking like she's been sideswiped by a truck.

Somehow I’m not surprised when she wavers on her feet and Emma is forced to lunge to catch her. With decades of battle experience, I open the glass door and let the younger and faster out to help. Once August and Michael race out, I follow up to put hard hands on Henry's shoulders, grounding him. The boy is teary and about as close to cracking as he can get and still be coherent.

"Everybody back inside. You too Henry."

Once back inside, I raise my voice over the babble.

"Sorry folks, but we're going to need to close up early tonight. Mother Superior, if you'd hang around for a minute? Boys, just put your loads somewhere comfortable. Keep them close so they don't blow my place up. Henry."

Hazel-green eyes huge in his wet face, the boy stares at me, desperate for some sort of reassurance. 

"Son, your folks are hurting. Now, you and I don't know exactly what's going on, but how about we stick together until we figure it out? Give me a minute to check your mom over. Go sit with Emma, I think he needs you, okay?"

"Okay," the boy finally whispers and reluctantly moves away to stand under Blue's welcoming hand where she hovers over Emma.

When I lean in close to Regina, I note her eyes are dilated, almost black, her face slack. Part of me wants to leave her to suffer, but that is not my nature. I'm an old busy-body who has to stick her fool nose into everybody's damn business. Besides, her boys need her. Lord knows why, but they do. 

Gritting my teeth, I cup the ashen face in both hands, accepting the jolt of magic that flows through me like grabbing a live wire. Gasping with an incoherent garble of broken words, Regina's eyes refocus and she tries to jerk away from my grip.

"Stop."

Gentle, but irrefutable, my single word breaks through the panic. This is not the near-mythical figure who tormented me and mine, but just a woman with a torturous curse of her own. It swirls faintly purple in her brown eyes, a blend of magic and terror for her family.

In this small window of time, I know exactly how she feels.

Satisfied that she's not going to do something insane in her panic, I gently press the dark head to the back of the booth seat and straighten up. The menfolk stare at me, all of them wide-eyed, their gazes flickering from my face to the maternal hand I have pressed to Regina's forehead.

"Your hand, Emma. You too, Regina."

Wordlessly, he offers it, still bruised and swollen from tonight's violence and upheaval. With no hesitation, Regina curls her fingers around his and I feel the new jolt right through her skin. Instantly, both relax, echoed in Henry and out to the rest of us.

"Okay, kids, let's see what we can salvage from this, shall we?"


	17. House Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a few tense days, Emma and Regina come together again.

++ Emma ++

"Stop hovering. You're making both of us more nervous."

The wry comment takes me off guard, but I warily step into the hospital room. I've been dancing around out here for nearly twenty minutes, long since the Mother Superior left.

"I forgot, y'know. Most of it anyway. Like some sort of messed up dreamscape that had me locked up like a loon for years."

"I... I didn't know."

"There's no way you could have. Man, that is a hell of a transformation, I have to say."

Wincing away from the purpled, battered face of the man I once loved, I wrestle with my own demons. 

"It took some getting used to," I finally manage to say lamely.

Over the years, I've forgotten the details of Neal's face, the way he sounded, the curve of his smile. But echoes of that are wrapped up subtly in Henry and I choke on this dose of what Regina must have felt when I arrived here. The stark, raging terror of nature versus nurture. With my own physiology and sexuality having been mixed up by similar forces, the conflict is all the sharper.

When it's clear that I cannot speak, Neal sighs and looks up unseeingly at the ceiling.

"When my... father started falling further and further under the spell of being the Dark One, I got desperate and called on Reul Ghorm. He wasn't happy about it, but I got the last magic bean and opened a portal up to a world with no magic."

I sympathize with the confused pain in his eyes.

"Somehow, I was... lost for what has turned out to be decades, before I slowly started becoming aware. I hadn't aged, not until I'm guessing you arrived here. Crazy, huh?"

"My..." a painful crack of my vocal cords makes us both almost smile. "My views on crazy have been greatly expanded by Storybrooke."

"I bet. Nice punch, by the way. You've got a mean right hook."

"Yeah, sorry about that."

"No, I deserved it."

Another uncomfortable silence settles over the room as I struggle with what to say.

"Henry..." I finally blurt out and a raised hand stops me.

"Don't. I really don't want to know. I just wanted to see you again, say sorry and try and explain myself. Make sure August got his chickenshit ass back here, y'know?"

The cockiness covers the pain and I smile shakily. 

"Sounds like both our lives were wrestled out of our control, huh?"

"Yeah, that it does."

The silence is a little gentler this time, letting me breathe.

"I'm headed home as soon as I can sneak away from your creepy Doctor Whale."

I can't help the small scoff of weak humor and nod, understanding the need to go. 

"Leave me a way to get a hold of you, willya? This isn't over yet."

He hesitates and then nods stiffly. 

"I hope everyone gets home."

Pausing at the door, I finally take a good, long look at my ex before speaking softly. 

"So do I."

 

++ Regina ++

(12-8-12)

Still shaken, I remain where I have been since being half carried home.

Whatever had possessed Widow Lucas to be kind to me is baffling, but she had been instrumental to the bizarre evening not spiraling hopelessly out of control. She'd ordered Michael to drive myself and Henry home, sent the boy to his room to get some sleep, prepared me a heavily sweetened hot toddy and left with barely a word.

Like that first night with Emma, the gas fire roars, bathing me in heat and light. It feels good, soothing my raw mind and soul.

I’d been assailed by a driving, panicked need, running from the house and barely slowing up until I had arrived to help Emma with his meltdown. I don't know what called me, but it clearly has something to do with our blended magics. The idea of being... bonded like this to another person makes me extremely uncomfortable, but what can I do?

A scratch of sound at my front door doesn't even surprise me.

As crappy as I feel is as awful as he looks. Fearful and traumatized, his pale eyes are stark in his ashen face, gold hair slicked to a boring brown by the now heavy rain. Without a word, I gesture him inside. Locking up, I take his hand to lead him not to the guest bedroom, but to the stairs. In the darkness of the house at this insane hour of morning, I cannot make out his expression, but I understand his reluctance. If I were less raw and exhausted, I would feel the same way. But right now, I just want to be close to him. Right now, the barrier I have maintained by keeping him from my bed feels shallow and pointless.

In the sprawling bathroom that has been part of my private space for so very long, I carefully strip Emma's large body. He stands passively, his mind far away, only startling back to the present when I push him beneath the spray of warm water.

"I'll be right back."

After shoving the entire mess of his sodden clothing into the washing machine and setting it to run later, I retreat back to the bathroom, stripping myself and climbing in with him. When powerful arms hug me close, I return the embrace.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs over and over again, both soothing and aggravating the hurt we have both experienced.

Warmed and mostly dry, we crawl into my luxurious bed and remain with bodies close.

"He said he's leaving as soon as he can," Emma whispers against my temple, voice strained. Part of me latches on to the words to keep my sanity as my son is once again pulled away from me.

Part of me knows that this is not over.

 

++ Emma ++

Some undefinable time has passed as we lay in sleepless quiet. My eyes burn with fatigue and my whole body aches, but I cannot relax. Clinging close, Regina feels the same, faint tremors running though her muscles periodically. My mind races, rapid fire snapshots of memory that make me dizzy with the avalanche of it.

When something finally jumps out at me, I speak with blunt rawness.

"Since I've lanced one festering emotional wound today," I murmur quietly into the cool room, now unable to get the thought out of my head, no matter how I know this is going to hurt. "Answer me a question."

Cradled close to my body, Regina nods and I cup her skull in my hands so that I can watch her face in the dim light from the window.

"Tell me what happened to Graham."

My voice is gentle, non-accusatory. I don't even know why, because I should be angry and hateful, but I just don't have the energy.

"Just explain it to me. I don't hate you, I don't think I can anymore."

"It... was the first of the last two truly evil things I did."

There are tears on the inky lashes and I have never been more relieved to see such a quiet emotion.

"I was... so afraid, lashing out like a wounded animal. He was remembering and I was losing control of him and I panicked. Just like... the poisoned apple."

The quiet tears become a sob and I cradle her close. 

"Remember this. Remember how it feels so you won't do it again. Okay?"

Even through the sobbing and shaking, I can feel the nod and some knot of fear and worry deep in my soul starts to loosen. Her misery is sincere, I know her well enough now to be certain of that. Graham had only been a shadow of whatever man he'd once been, years ago, when his heart had been taken by the Evil Queen. This woman has changed so much, her darkness fading to shadows, balance slowly returning to her.

In some instinctual gesture of trust, I grasp her hand, pressing it to my chest, above my own beating heart. The fingers tremble as violently as the rest of her body and I hug her hard to me.

"Never again?" I whisper the question gently and she sniffles, nodding against the base of my throat.

"Never again."

I will take the words as a promise, because I have come to trust this Regina.

 

++ Regina ++

Jarred awake, I fight down panic as the insidious tendrils of nightmare release me. Suffocated half beneath a hot, dead weight, fight or flight takes over, the most primitive parts of my lizard brain reacting without higher thought.

To no avail as the dead weight pinning me down stirs to life.

Emma.

Murmuring soothingly, it is Emma half atop me, his touch familiar and yet foreign in this bed. Not poor, broken Graham, not another of my endless nightmares, but my sensitive and flawed lover. Even as I relax in relief, Emma curls around me, clinging close, his body spooned to mine. His slithering arm beneath my skull pulls at my hair, but I couldn't care less. That arms coils around my neck and upper torso, the other draped over my waist with his hand curled around my inner thigh. 

No one has ever... cuddled me like this. While part of me rails at the possessiveness of the embrace, more of me relishes the intimacy I have never allowed another. He soothes the jagged edges of my stress, comforts my body and soul.

Oh how I fear this... need.

When Emma suddenly hugs me, hard, I feel the goodbye in it before he even speaks. "I should get back to the apartment before David and Mary Margaret kick down your door. Can you grab my clothes?"

"But they're wet in the machine."

"Don't worry about it. I have to walk in the rain anyway. I'll be fine."

Squirming around onto my back, I search out his shadowed eyes, little more than a gleam in the faint light from the streetlamps. There is nothing I can think to say and instead, capture that sensitive mouth in a long, sweet kiss.

How easy it would be, to seduce him, let the carnal distractions of our bodies blanket our mutual hurts and insecurities. It's the sort of thing I have always done.

Instead, I listen to my more recent lessons, that voice of sanity that is a lifeline to a better life.

Letting the sweet, long kiss run its natural course, I lean back and stroke his cheek and chin.

Only then can I roll away and comply with his wishes.

 

++ Emma ++

(12-10-12)

The jagged edges have started to wear off with the sheer, unrelenting normalcy of the last couple days. That said, my folks are hovering again and it's making me crazy. I figured out last night that it reminds me of the suicide watches taking place around me while I was behind bars. Being pregnant, I wasn't in the general population for the bulk of my sentence, but kept in a wing of the infirmary.

Henry none-too-subtly avoiding me isn't helping. Doubtlessly he's pissed and conflicted about not meeting Neal. That makes me think of the PO Box number-- in Tallahassee of all the painful ironies-- carefully squirreled away in several safe spots. When Henry's life has hopefully calmed down and he isn't wracked with so much hormonal tweeny angst, I’ll give him the choice. But not now, not after how he'd gone racing off to find me. His safety comes first, always. Even if it means he's going to one day hate me for hiding the info about his father.

It helps put what Regina went through in even better perspective.

We've exchanged a few text messages like an almost normal couple, but there's a distance between us that we have to find a way to bridge. Frankly, I miss her.

The phone ringing yanks my thoughts back to the mundane present, but David beats me to it. After a moment, his expression shutters and he waves the receiver at me. Bet I can guess who's on the line! Once he hangs up his phone, I pick up mine and push the flickering red light.

"Sheriff Swan."

I don't need to see the curl of feline smile, I can hear it her faintly playful tone, lurking under the mock. 

"Sheriff Swan, I have a need that requires your attention. If you are not too busy with the hubbub of our little burg."

Hiding a smile at the thin veneer of the anal-retentive bitch she'd been before I was lost to the Enchanted Forest, I put on my best serious face for David's benefit.

"Well, Miss Mills, I hate to think of you being in need. I'll be over shortly."

"Thank you for your prompt attendance, Sheriff."

The thread of seduction in her voice makes me smile faintly as I hang up and mutter to myself. 

"Bossy."

Eager and feeling better than I have in days, I check my pockets before going to the bullpen. No shock that David's eyes are on me like a hawk.

"What was that about?" 

His tone is deceptively mild, the constant worry bleeding through clearly. For a royal supposedly familiar with political maneuvering, the guy has a crap poker face.

I sure as hell can't admit to a booty call, so I settle for something neutral sounding. 

"She was just checking in."

"She could have told me that."

My disbelieving look says it all and he reluctantly looks away. Grabbing my coat, I shrug into it, but stop up short when I notice David doing the same.

"What are you doing?"

"Going with you, obviously."

It's the last straw and I swallow down a boil of temper. 

"David, while I appreciate your concern, I can do my damn job."

He freezes, utterly conflicted and I vacillate between soothing him and biting his head off.

"Pops, you're smothering me."

Deflated as sure as a punch to the gut, he drops back into his chair. This push and pull with the peers who are actually my parents is like the worst kind of fifties sci-fi high school drama. Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I wish for the millionth time that this fairy tale crap came with some sort of manual.

"Look, she reached out first. So I’m going over there to talk this crap out." A sharply raised hand forestalls anything he might say. "Decisions about Henry are at least as much hers to make as mine. Technically more so. Neither of us are sure where the boundaries are for that particular stuff. So, I’m going to be a grownup and talk about it. When he gets home from school, barring an emergency that you hopefully won't need to call me about, I’ll talk things out with him too."

Nodding, David doesn't say a word and I sigh quietly.

"Hold down the fort and I’ll see you soon enough."

 

++ Regina ++

Really, that Emma Swan has no concept of not dragging his feet.

Slapping down the bitchy control freak part of me that ruled for far too long, I take a calming breath. Really, this is like being some sort of nervous virgin bride. That dredges up very unwelcome and dark memories and I ruthlessly shove them away and think longingly of the lovely hard ciders, stashed in the small refrigerator behind lock and key in my office. But, recently, the taste of alcohol has been making me faintly nauseous. I blame the stress. 

Over the weekend I have done little but think about all the changes that have happened to me, even going so far as to call Archie to go speak with him. While it is nerve-wracking to have someone know so very much about me, the outpouring of words makes me feel less and less like exploding.

Turns out that I really did need therapy after all.

Smirking humorlessly at that thought, I once more glare at the clock, wondering where Emma is. Really, I am getting very anxious for my virile and welcome young lover. After the most recent upset, I need to connect with him again.

At last, my musing is interrupted by that sharp, solid knock on my door. There was no sound of the noisy rattletrap of a police cruiser or that horrid yellow machine. He's on foot again then. That would explain the delay.

Hot and flushed with anticipation, I check my appearance in a mirror, unable to stop the vanity. My careful preparations have held up to the fretful wait. Good.

In a blast of frigid air, I take in my lover, standing there at my threshold, hands in his coat pockets, cheeks pink amidst ridiculous folds of bright, bulky knit. Despite the obvious evidence of his mommy's hand in his wardrobe, I want to drag him in and kiss him senseless.

Well, to start with anyway.

That enticing, smug smile playing around the well-formed mouth does not help my self control. 

"You rang, citizen?"

The arrogance irks me and fires me up in the best way. I have never been able to control this wild card, no matter how I have tried. 

"I did, Sheriff. Would you care to step inside?"

With a nonchalant shrug, he steps in and I quickly lock up before facing him.

No man should make me this deliciously nervous and needy, but there is the truth. Best to enjoy it, keep what control I can, let his beauty-- inside and out-- be my strength and salvation.

A ruffle of sound pulls me away from my mental wanderings and I can admire his big hands raking casually through the overgrown field of wheat-colored hair before unwinding the colorful scarf and carefully hanging the knits on the hall tree. Then he briskly rubs his big hands together and speaks to me brightly.

"So, what can I do for you, Miss Mills?"

Really? Is he being an idiot? Is this not my best, whisper fine cashmere in the exact shade of his eyes? Aren't the prohibitively expensive black silk stockings and above the knee skirt hint enough?

Wait.

Is he playing with me?

 

++ Emma ++

Oh, this little game is so worth it.

The expressive brown eyes are a rainbow of personality facets and emotions that I follow closely. The wily seductress, stymied by my apparent casualness, goes to a flash of horny nervousness, mixed with annoyance of my not taking the very enticing bait, then a blaze of sweetly surprised realization.

My instincts tell me we need to connect again, but we're a little wary over the lingering upset of a few days ago.

"Oh, yes," she stalls awkwardly, smoothing both hands over her flat belly, drawing my eye. "I, uh." Then she suddenly gets inspired and her face lights up in a wicked grin. "I was hoping you could help me with a color choice."

My smile deepens, but I squish it down and play along. 

"Color choice? Well, I have to admit that sort of thing isn't my strong suit."

"Oh, I don't know about that. After all, you look well enough put together."

"I have a good tutor."

Yeah, she likes that, preening slightly in pure, feminine delight. As a woman, I appreciated a few cliché girlie things, but it was never a priority. Probably a good thing, given the changes I’ve gone through. But Regina is a classic high femme. The woman should be strutting the streets of Fifth Avenue, not dinky Storybrooke.

"You look beautiful. How could I help?"

"Oh, the outside is well put together, I know, but I was hoping you could help me with what's underneath."

What a fabulous double entendre, and a surprisingly deep plea. I nod faintly, because I can't take my eyes off her hands where they are teasing open tiny buttons I didn't even notice against the clingy sweater. As its own stretchiness pulls away from the widening gap, I can't help but be drawn in by the gorgeous view of her tawny skin and the roundness of her breasts, cradled perfectly in deeply red silk.

"Do the colors work?"

Uhh, colors, right. 

"They're terrific. Is that cashmere?"

The seductive smile deepens. "Yes. The very best. Very luxurious and sensual against the skin. Would you like to feel?"

 

++ Regina ++

Oh how good his attention feels, lusty and sincere. Gently, perhaps even a bit reverently, he brushes aside my hands, stepping in close to my smaller body, breath hot on my face.

"Very soft."

I’ve missed his touch, his sweet, curious caresses, at least as much as the overt sexuality that will come next.

"I like the color combo. Very Christmasy."

Calluses catching at the stretchy, delicate wool, Emma smoothes hands over my ribs, sliding up to cup both breasts, thumbing my nipples, already rigid from anticipation and the blast of cold. Sometimes, his gentleness is a frustration, but I really do like feeling so sweetly worshiped. It soothes more than just the edge of sexual frustration.

"The color matches your eyes," I breathe out, hands on his wrists to feel the play of muscle and tendon. "When you touch me."

"Do they turn that green?" Curious and playful, his question makes me open my own dark gaze to stare into his eyes, indeed gone exactly that green.

"Yes."

My breathless sigh is lost in the heat of his kiss, his strong arms sliding around me, my favorite safe place. He tastes of coffee and winter and the almost electric power that burns under his skin. I happily drape my arms around his neck and toy with the unkempt shagginess of his hair.

"You need a haircut."

Snorting with amusement at my maternal nagging, Emma straightens up and fumbles with the last few tiny buttons on the sweater.

"Yeah, I actually agree. I’ve been fascinated with how fast it's growing. Yours too, I notice. Is that a magic thing?"

"Honestly, I’ve never consciously noted it."

"Well, I was curious if the curls would come back, but I think I’m out of luck. Besides, I'm far too pretty a man for long hair."

Laughing, I stand up on my toes for a moment to kiss him almost roughly, rubbing my curves hard to his sculpted body. 

"Darling man, no one sane could accuse you of looking too 'pretty'. Not with your rugged good looks. Now, if you'd be so kind to accompany me upstairs, I would be happy to show my appreciation of your maleness."

With a caress over his abs and waistband, I turn on a heel and stride off, confident that he will follow.

 

++ Emma ++

"Bossy," I chuckle to myself, enjoying the prickly rush of arousal from these games; the bantering words and her skilled hands and the privacy of this space for just us. She pauses and turns on the stairs, one eyebrow arched in a look that must have made minions cower once. At least with me, she doesn't back it up with actual menace anymore.

It's startling and thrillingly hot that she's suddenly, unexpectedly, taller than I am. That is still one of the things that continues to throw me off; looking down at so many people. I had been on the short side and not prone to towering shoes, so the change in perspective is still startling.

With one hand stuck fast to the railing-- I still don't trust my body control completely-- I climb one step closer and curl my free hand over her hip and nuzzle the base of her throat. 

"It's sexy. Y'know, when you're not trying to kick my ass."

Scoffing with amusement, Regina gives a handful of the back of my scalp a sharp tug. Her eyes glitter with remnants of the powerful enemy she once was, the lurking menace distracted by my continued feeling her up. 

"If I had truly tried, I would have succeeded."

"Doubtlessly," I agree easily and don't fight the hard hand in my hair. I know her now, and don't fear her any longer. She doesn't fight me pressing close, hand splayed low on her spine, kissing and licking at her throat, coaxing at less dark parts of herself.

For a moment, she doesn't soften, seeming to fight how good I know this makes her feel. So, I simply hug her.

It only takes a moment for her to hug back.

"I must drive you crazy," she mutters near my ear and I smile.

"Yeah, sometimes. But I find it rather charming."

That earns me a glare, half-hearted and faintly teary as it may be. 

"I'm not certain I appreciate that choice of words."

"Bullshit. Just because it's my father's sappy nickname, doesn't mean that it doesn't apply to you too. You are ridiculously charismatic, lover, and you know it. And while some guys like their woman sweet and sunny," there's no mistaking exactly who that faint sarcasm is aimed at, "that's far too uncomplicated for my tastes. You keep on being your complicated, unpredictable self."

Making that low, growly noise I know she likes, I kiss her hard, wrenching her teeth apart to get at the taste of her mouth. Startled and turned on once again, she digs her sharp nails into my scalp, a sensation I’ve grown to enjoy, and kisses me back like she means it.


	18. Intense Conversations

++ Regina ++

There are so many of me, glittering shards of personality like shattered mirrors. Everything from the sunny child I was before mother broke her down, to the insane mass murderer I was at the darkest depths of my hate.

I don't deserve this understanding soul, but it seems I’m happily stuck with him for now.

"Sweet talker," I murmur against his lips, drinking up the feel of his quirky smile. "Thank you."

Clearing my throat and straightening up my posture, I look haughtily at my lover, enjoying the game once more. 

"Now then, if you'd be so kind as to accompany me for some further style lessons?"

"Lead the way, citizen."

In the safety of the bedroom, Emma looks around in curiosity. It's strange to see him here, in my intimate space, particularly after our uncomfortable emotional state the last time we were together. And with the intent of what we are to do here, I have opened my most personal haven to him. Even Henry rarely steps foot in these rooms. But it's also a very real thrill, the proof of my trusting him, of opening myself up to the various magics we create.

Curiosity sated with a long glance, Emma shrugs out of his heavy woolen pea coat. It was a suggestion of mine to offset his mother's often ridiculous fashion sense and the sometimes questionable taste he displayed as his former, female self. Dressing him has been enormously satisfying, covering the gorgeous shape of his body as a painter would do to canvas.

I could do without the flannel shirt though. Though at least this one appears to be new and not the hand-me-downs of early on when he'd returned from the Enchanted Forest. He's become his own man astonishingly quickly.

I like to think that maybe I had an hand in that.

Few people get a chance to so completely reinvent themselves. Fewer still do it well. I certainly didn't.

The dark turn of my thoughts are distracted by watching Emma finish unbuttoning the gray flannel and strip it off to reveal a simple white t-shirt. "It's warm in here," he teases and looks at me with mocking gravity. "A fashion question?"

Sauntering into his personal space, I turn my back to him, smiling coyly over my shoulder. 

"That zipper is a terrible chore to get to. Give a girl a hand?"

"With pleasure."

His hands are warm and I really, really want them on my skin, the tight skirt no longer between us.

"Oh," he breathes out softly. "You match."

 

++ Emma ++

Part of me is well aware I sound like a brainless idiot, but this is the first time I’ve been this up close and personal to such outrageous female frippery. And this coming from someone who was female 'til a month and a half ago. 

Spreading the skirt open, I push it away from where it clings to her and admire the honest-to-Abe garter belt. It's elaborate and skimpy, trimmed subtly in whisper-fine lace, interesting in pattern with black piping amid the burgundy fabric.

Framing the lush curves of her deliciously bare ass, the dangling straps are clipped securely to dark hose that end halfway up her thighs.

"So, the full ensemble works then?"

Jerking my eyes back up to hers, I see that she is positively preening under my stare. How could I have known how powerful my inner straight guy was? Must be the random dabbles into porn that has all sorts of ideas flashing through my mind.

And right now, my heavy winter pants are getting distinctly uncomfortable.

Turning around to face me, I see that Regina is only wearing the garter belt, with no underwear to struggle with. Whoo boy...

Elegant hands run over my chest, making me hiss, before dropping lower, tugging my shirt from my pants so that she can run fingertips over the edge of the waistband, stroking my skin and the sensitive tattoo on my back.

"Care to try out something more traditionally erotic from this world?"

Grunting something I think is affirmative, I fumble with stripping off the tee and Regina easily dodges my clumsy elbows. Thankfully for us continuing to be lovers, she's always been aware of my limited coordination and accommodated me nicely.

Makes me wonder some days, how well I’d be adapting without her help.

Regina's mouth is hot and open on my sternum, making me moan. While she jerks at my fly, I fumble with the bra catch, cursing my thick fingers, not for the first time.

"You don't like the bra?" She taunts, biting at my nipple, making me jump like a live wire.

"I do like the bra, but I like your tits better."

I swear I'm tempted to see if I can just rip the damn thing, but she'd rightly kick my ass for it. Her hand rubbing teasingly over the erection straining at my clothes doesn't help.

It's not a surprise when she suddenly saunters away with an enticing sway to those hips while finishing up what I couldn't. 

"Sit and get out of those shoes before you break your neck."

Holding onto my loosened pants, I do as I'm told, thankful for the soft support of the bed.

 

++ Regina ++

Expertly crouching on my killer heels, I grab one boot and easily yank down the heavy zipper. 

"I have to say, that I appreciate your apparent dislike of laces."

"Too much coordination," he chuckles breathlessly, scooting out of pants and thong as best he can without kicking at me.

At some point, I’m going to have to get him into something outrageously sexy, just for the thrill of it. Perhaps some tight leather the color of chocolate and cinnamon? Certainly something that shows off that magnificent chest! Though I understand the feminine reluctance to be casually shirtless.

Boots and socks removed, I toss them casually aside and strip off the soft, heavy pants he seems to have so many of. I like them, as they are attractive in a warm, homey way. And even more so crumpled in the corner of my room!

Emma is up on his elbows, watching me with hot, hungry eyes, every muscle thrown into delicious relief. I have toyed with many men in my time, even had a few of them, but this regal lion is definitely my favorite.

"You look thoughtful."

The soft comment makes me shake my head and smile, smoothing my hands over his strong thighs.

"Nothing of importance. Where were we?"

He's going to ask, and part of me wants to tell him, but at the moment, carnal needs win out. The green eyes glitter ever more brightly as I slink over him, trailing teasing nipples over his thighs. With a brief lick at the straining erection I intend to enjoy greatly in a moment, I kiss and suckle over his torso, enjoying his undemanding hands in my hair.

My undignified sound of surprise is authentic as those gentle hands are suddenly hard on my scalp and I’m on my back, his body half over mine.

"Shame to rush the spectacle of this lovely attire, don't you think?"

One hand trails over my thigh, heating my skin, making our strange magics spark along my flesh and soul. And Emma knows well how his mouth on my throat makes me unable to think, soft lips and the bristly short beard my undoing.

"I do like you bossy," he hums against my skin, but I can barely hear him over my own panting. With an athletic twist of his powerful body, his weight dominates me, his wandering hand tickling high on my thigh. A single, long stroke over my clit makes me keen with want, hips straining towards his touch. "But I like you like this, too."

At last, he fills the empty ache inside me and I wrap my legs around him tightly. Call me old fashioned, but this is my favorite way of having sex, face to face with our bodies blended so intimately.

Never have I had such a lover so attuned to my needs and at the moment, Emma has started thrusting, steady and slow. That stimulation and his stunning physique against me, drives the simmering arousal quickly towards a boil. I am not a patient lover, though he certainly doesn't always let me have my way.

Freezing all movement makes me wail and growl in frustration, kicking at his thighs, digging hard nails into his back. And he has the nerve to chuckle darkly, rolling his hips, making me choke and squirm.

 

++ Emma ++

One good thing about making these house calls, is that I’m pretty much always on Regina's schedule. That might be taken as demeaning or manipulative by some, but I see it a different way.

She doesn't call me unless she's ready.

And boy, is she ready! Snarling and clawing at me, she is not happy at my pause, but I only tease for a moment. It's not like I can resist the incredible feel of her wet heat around that straining organ she taught me to enjoy!

Drawing my knees up, I get her thighs over mine so I can put my back into it. Massaging one breast and suckling at the other, I drink up her sounds of pleasure and the way her body writhes and grows warm and sweaty so fast.

I'm pleased that my self control is better as she climaxes sharply, head thrown back, fingernails scoring my ribs and spine. Ouch! That hurt! She yipes like a kicked dog when I reflexively bite down on her nipple, those punishing nails suddenly in my scalp. But she isn't pulling me away, so I mentally shake off the distracting hurt and start rolling my hips more powerfully. She'll either shove me off or keep flying. Or at least let me finish in style.

Up on my hands, back arched, I wallow in the pleasure, feeling the tight heat start deep in those disconcerting testicles, exploding up my spine to leave me panting and winded, slumping wearily onto Regina's body.

"So you liked the lingerie?"

Her voice is low and rough, a sound I admit is addictive. Chuckling warmly, I mouth ear and cheek, breathing in the scents of her. With weary muscles, I maneuver until I’m stretched out again and she too can fully relax.

"I do. Never was much one for the stuff myself, but you wear it extremely well. Got any more colors to try out?

She joins me in laughter and strokes my skin, making me hiss in pain at the suddenly reawakened scratches. Immediately she's all maternal concern, fussing over me, wiggling away to get a warm, wet washcloth and rub them tenderly.

"I'm sorry, Emma. Seems I was in a wilder mood then I had thought."

"Christ, Regina, don't apologize. If you're feelin' it, you bite and claw all you want. Just stay away from anything you can actually damage, okay?"

"I drew blood," she sounds faintly horrified and I grin wickedly over my shoulder.

"Sweet. I’ll take the compliment. Now, come here and let me get a better look at those stockings. Or better yet, a feel."

 

++ Regina ++

The hot water needling onto my skin is sweet bliss. Pleasantly sore in the best way, weak-kneed with satisfaction and once again emotionally off-balance, I feel remarkably good.

A frisson of sweet pain from my soapy hand makes me look down to see a dusky bruise rising beneath my skin, just inside my hipbone. Oh yes, that. He'd been fixated on that spot, suctioning mouth and scraping teeth making me squeal while he stroked me with one big hand until I nearly pulled out fistfuls of blonde hair.

It's a good match to the sore, reddened nipple that will have me a distracted mess for days.

Well honed instincts tell me that I'm running low on time and to get myself moving again. Wallowing in pleasant memories will have to wait for later, when I am alone in my bed.

Unless perhaps I can convince him to stay?

It's a nice idea, but impossible. The idea of Henry knowing about this affair frightens me for reasons I can't even fully admit to myself.

Finishing my ablutions quickly, I wrap up in warm terrycloth and step back into the bedroom to smile indulgently. Some things about men remain consistent. Given a chance, good sex will put them to sleep. Not that a nap doesn't sound positively decadent right now, but my son comes first.

Tickling a bare foot wakes Emma with a start. "Shit, Regina, sorry. What time is it?"

"Getting very close to picking Henry up from school."

Muttering a curse, he's up and stumbling for the bathroom, displaying an excellent reminder of his early clumsiness. A brutally quick shower later-- how I despise rushing my cleaning and preparation routines-- he's rejoined me. Noticing I haven't finished my makeup, he gets in my space, kissing me thoroughly. Oh, how I wish we had the time to linger...

"You look gorgeous."

Half made-up and less than half-dressed, I can only scoff at him, startled when he doesn't let up on his embrace, kissing me once more.

"You are. You do lovely work with your makeups, but you don't need them."

Kissing my nose, he leaves me to finish up, gathering his clothing to dress. It's terribly distracting, the slide of cloth over his fair skin, settling around that powerful torso and lean hips.

I really need to keep my eyes to myself for now.

 

++ Emma ++

It's difficult to see the way Henry hesitates when he sees me. 

But actively avoiding me now would call him on his shit and we both know it. The stubborn jaw squares and he finally sulks over to cross his arms and glare at me sullenly.

It's a wonder his mother hasn't throttled him herself, given her past.

"Seriously, this is what we've been reduced to?"

It's blunt, even for me. Probably even a little hurtful and the eyes that match mine and my mother's turn angry and hurt.

"You sent him away!"

My temper flares at the childish outburst, my own hurt rushing to the forefront. 

"Henry! He left! People like me and him do that! He wouldn't even let me explain who the hell you are!"

"You punched him! Of course he left!"

"I was angry!"

Yes, I’m having a shouting match with my eleven year old son in the school parking lot with his ostracized mother sitting in the car behind me. Way to go, Emma. Forcing calm, I speak again in a normal tone.

"He hurt me, Henry. Turned me in to the police when I thought I loved him and he loved me back. Didn't I tell you there were consequences for losing one's temper? People who hate do stupid things. Hurtful things."

He's chewing on that, his eyes straying to the window I’m leaning against where I can almost feel Regina's gaze.

"You didn't leave," he mumbles and I don't know if I want to hug him or run screaming for the hills. I suck at this stuff. Being the kid's pal was one thing, but being his parent? Shoot me.

"Yeah, well you were pretty persistent about that destiny thing."

The anger drains away from his youthful face, but the hurt remains. 

"He didn't even want to know about me?"

And here's where I dig deep and find out if I'm really the kind of person he and my folks think I am. 

"Kid, come're." Half willingly, he comes to stand at my side, almost touching me. "He didn't know you exist. At all. That's a heck of a shock to a person. I knew you existed and you just about gave me a heart attack showing up at my door. And, knowing what I know now, he's been through a heck of a lot. I mean, his mother leaves him, he watches the father he loves become the Dark One, gets lost in a world with no magic, August makes him leave me..."

"Okay, okay," Henry relents, kicking at the asphalt. "I get it. Do you think he's a decent guy now? Not a thief anymore?"

"I have no clue. But he was sure dressed better, like a normal guy, so maybe that's a good sign. But there's something that maybe you haven't thought about him, and about me too. Biology can't make you a good parent. I didn't chose to get pregnant, it was an accident. Your mom chose to adopt you. I chose to stay here, for you. Keep that in mind, okay?"

It's a relief that he's leaning into me now, a sort of half embrace that I’m thrilled with. Time to lighten the mood up. 

"So," I say brightly and he looks up at me. "Your mother rightly pointed out that I need a haircut." On a whim, I sling an arm around his neck in a friendly choke-hold that makes him squawk. "So guess what you and me get to do?"

"Aw, man!"

The mood has been broken for now, our buddy rapport restored, and I feel a million times better. Even knowing that the hurt isn't gone.

 

++ Regina ++

I don't hear all of what is said outside, but I hear enough. As much as it once would have pained me to admit it, Emma is better at this than he thinks he is. Even before this change, with the curse in full force, she might have been decent at it, but I had been too threatened and panicked to notice.

And to hear someone, anyone, defend what I had given to Henry all these years...

It take some effort to swallow the hard knot of emotion and sniffle back the tears before they finish bleeding off some of that tense energy by horsing around before piling into the Mercedes. From the back seat, Henry leans over to plant a noisy kiss on my cheek. 

"Hi, Mom."

Really, they're going to make me blubber.

On the center console, Emma's arm subtly nudges mine and we share a faint, melancholy smile.

Casual small talk gets us to the barber shop where Sebastian greets us in his strange, jovial accent.

"Well hello there Mills family! Ah, and Henry, my mon, I see you brought along the handsome sheriff! No booster seat for you, huh big man?"

Cackling, and ignoring Emma's hesitance, the hyper, dark little man wrestles the much larger blonde into one of the adjustable chairs and spins it around to face the mirror.

"Jus' a trim?"

A pinch of that gold mane in the dark fingers makes me remember how the soft strands feel in my hands when...

Clearing my throat, I remove myself from the action and settle to the well-kept couch to wait.

"How short do you want to go, Emma?" Henry asks as Sebastian waits with cheerful impatience.

"Not too short or my head will freeze. And seeing myself in the mirror is still odd, after having long hair my whole life."

"You jus' leave it to ol' Sebastian!" He crows and flicks open the smock to protect Emma's clothing before attacking the golden strands with brush and comb. Henry has been hustled off for a wash while I settle in to watch my lover get cleaned up.

A spray bottle of water wets down the silky strands, turning them dark, closer to the beard's color. Then scissors rasp through the tufts held carefully in Sebastian's fingers while I watch in quiet pleasure. These peaceful moments of simple normalcy are a balm to me after such a dark, dramatic life. I could not appreciate these things before, always stressed and uptight and plowing ahead like a force of nature. Even Henry could barely slow me down, calm me into enjoying simple things. But I still have a full library of memories of those times despite myself.

 

++ Emma ++

The harsh rasp of sharp metal through the strands of my hair so close to scalp and ears is going to make me scream. It's nerve-wracking and Henry picks up on that when he returns with freshly washed hair. 

"What's wrong?"

Leaning away from the invasive scissors, I bring my hands up to scrub at my face and blow out a stressed breath. 

"It's the sound. I've had long hair since I was a teeny little girl and the sound of the scissors so close to my ears is weirding me out. Same thing when the beard gets trimmed. Just one more reminder how much I’ve changed."

"Anyone thank you for what you did, mon?"

Startled by the question, I crane my head to take in the barber's smile. 

"Well, sure. In a roundabout kinda way. I missed all those weeks of all of you adapting to, y'know, being both."

"Easier for some of us. See me and the brothers here? We all sea creatures that lived wit the merfolk. I has to say that I do enjoy having thumbs. So, yeah, thank you."

The laugh is real, bubbling up from my belly. The insanity of this town is unrelenting and I just shake my head and settle back into the chair to let him finish. 

"Sea creatures, huh?"

During the efficient work, Sebastian the very talented singing crab entertains us with stories and song. All in all, a most pleasant afternoon, barring the rasping scissors. But I get through it and get a last laugh when I am solemnly presented a lollipop for being a good boy.

Even Regina smirks in amusement at that one, while Henry cracks up.

Out in the winter cold, I take a deep breath and announce, "I require ice cream after that ordeal. Can we spoil our dinner a bit, 'Mom'?"

Still giggling and carrying on, Henry adds in his puppy eyes and Regina rolls hers before gesturing towards Sara's shop. The kid and I share a high-five and follow her clicking heels to our treat. 

It's hard to remember not to touch Regina, be it a casual PDA or something protective when I feel the glowers of the less accepting citizens. Things like that make me actually a bit glad I wasn't here for the weeks of getting used to their having dual realities. Not sure how I would have adapted to that.

At the ice cream shop, Henry yanks open the door and I grab it with one hand and place the other on the small of Regina's back to escort her in. I have to consciously remove my touch when we reach the counter.

This affair thing is tough...

 

++ Mother Superior ++

(12-11-12)

When I spy the police cruiser outside of Granny's Diner, I head over there to corner my quarry. Ruby is pouring more coffee into Emma's cup and they laugh over something. Turning his attention back to his meal the sheriff is staring at his cell phone, pushing buttons rapidly. I do hate to interrupt his meal, but there are things I need to know.

It takes a moment for Emma to notice that I've stopped by his table and the hazel-green eyes look up to meet mine. A smile quirks the handsome face and he lowers the phone to give me his attention.

"Hello, Mother Superior. Can I help you?"

"Hello, Sheriff. May a have a moment of your time?"

"Of course."

"There are a number of orphans and needy families in town even now that the curse is broken. Not everyone found missing family members or other loved ones."

My anger and bitterness seeps into my voice, no matter how I would like to be above these unsettling human emotions. Something almost dark flashes in Emma's eyes, before his expression smoothes into deliberate neutrality. 

"That's a shame. Is there anything I can do to help?"

"Yes. Myself and the other fairies would like to do a simple and non-stressful civic fundraiser."

"What, like a bake sale?"

The flippant tone rankles a bit and some of that must show in my expression because he looks immediately abashed.

"Sorry about that. I only mock because I'm a crappy cook. I eat here all the time for a reason."

"Sometimes, the tried and true can be the most effective."

"Fair enough. You just tell me when and where and the sheriff department is at your disposal."

"Thank you, Emma."

With the easy business taken care of, I find myself stymied as how to bring up the rest of what I need to discuss with him. Cheeseburger halfway back to his mouth, Emma pauses and eyes me.

"There's something personal on your mind. Go ahead."

"It's an... awkward query."

Huffing a humorless sound, he takes a great bite of the sandwich and shrugs. "How bad can it be?"

"Very well. What is going on with Regina?"


	19. Healing Interations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some more bridges are mended.

++ Emma ++

I don't choke on the mouthful, but it takes effort. Searching the Mother Superior's face doesn't really give me a clue what she wants, her expression curious and more than a little disapproving. Better start mentally tap dancing, Swan.

"Excuse me?"

"On Friday, when we were so briefly reunited with Baelfire, you performed something magical with Regina."

The relief washes over me.

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that."

Chewing, I get my thoughts in order and shove my plate away. With clipped sentences, I go back over the whole 'child of True Love' thing that Gold brought up when I returned to Storybrooke. Having to figure out how to talk about my weird magic shenanigans with Regina without giving away our affair is harder than I expected. Man, this really does suck.

"So, somewhat by accident, I found that we enhance each other's magic, but I can also tamp hers down. My guess is that's how we defeated Cora."

"You defeated Cora."

The woman's distaste is almost palpable and I find myself fighting down a bristly, defensive reaction.

"No ma'am, we defeated Cora. Think what you will of Regina, but she really has changed."

She doesn't like that, her expression conflicted and pinched.

"It may seem that way, but she has stooped to greater trickery than manipulating someone in a position of power over her."

There's a sudden headache building behind my eyes at how my afternoon has suddenly lurched sideways. Really, all I had wanted was a nice, quiet lunch before I patrolled the town. Now I've been dragged into a philosophical debate with the head frickin' fairy.

"Look, I'm perfectly aware that there are still plenty of parties that are still pissed as hell at Regina, but I maintain that her desire to change is sincere. You can take that at face value or disbelieve me, I can't control that, but I know her better than anyone now."

It's closer to the truth than I wanted to skirt, but my temper is hot in my belly and I’m having trouble stuffing it down. The head nun still looks conflicted.

"She could be magically influencing you."

"I assure you that she can't do that with any sort of effectiveness."

 

++ Mother Superior ++

He believes what he is saying, that much is obvious. But he can't know what Regina is like, the decades of war and terror she drove like a firestorm over the Enchanted Forest before exiling all of us in this horrible, magical wasteland.

Before I can further emphasize my concerns, Emma is speaking again as he wipes his hands clean on some napkins.

"Look, I'll prove it to you. That Regina can't magically influence me. She can't, because we're pretty sure I’m actually more powerful than she is. In that raw, overcharged battery kinda way. Give me your hands and let me see if something works."

It is the strangest request anyone has ever asked of me and I have existed since time immemorial. Reluctantly, I eye his open hands, palms up on the table, before tentatively setting my fingers against his. Thick fingers wrap around mine and I’m abruptly struck with the reality that I don't honestly know that anyone has ever just casually touched me like this.

Before I can process that, the mundane warmth of his skin is suddenly eclipsed by a fierce, burning jolt of raw magical power that nearly shorts out my frail human senses. It is like nothing I have ever felt, visceral and uncivilized, triggering all sorts of primitive reactions in my body.

Roughly tearing my hands away from Emma's, I gasp for air and try to figure out why my back and knees suddenly hurt. I think I may have battered them against the booth. Every nerve is abuzz as though I have been struck by lightning and it takes a moment to notice how it pools low in my abdomen and makes my poor nipples stand out almost painfully. Did that... arouse me? How peculiar and disconcerting! 

"Sorry! Sorry! I didn't think I'd jolt you so bad."

Shaken from the magical surge, I can only stare at the lad and try to calm the buzzing in my brain and body. The urge to rub away the tingle in my breasts and groin is nearly impossible to resist. That really is the most extraordinary sensation...

"Give me your hands again."

My shocked disbelief must be written all over my face, because he turns cajoling.

"Come on, seriously. I can take it back. Y'know, give you some calm."

"Wait a moment. I've been without magic for a very long time."

Turning my focus within, I examine the strange, foreign energy that has suffused me. It is incomprehensible, a useless electrical storm of magics I have no connection to. It makes me sad, to know that I am still powerless.

"Very well. As I don't appear to be able to use your... gift, some calm would be a relief."

Again, his big hands are warm around mine and there is the strangest feeling of being emptied out. Like water drawn from a vessel, his magics recede and I am once more just an ordinary human being. Truly, I feel even emptier now, with that taste of magic haunting me, no matter how foreign.

It is an experience I will not soon forget.

 

++ Regina ++

I'm still annoyed with him, but only a little bit. Not that I'm telling him that since I have him right where I want him for now. After telling me about his encounter with Reul Ghorm, I had been amused and angry at what feels like an invasion of privacy. The cookie baking had been utterly forgotten as he immediately became all abject apologies, kissing and nuzzling at me until it was impossible to think.

Hence the blackened mess Emma is currently scrubbing off my good baking sheets. 

I've buttoned up again, but Emma hasn't bothered to find his shirt where I tossed it near the sink. It's probably wet now anyway.

Really, how could he share that intimate connection with her? It makes me stiffen up just thinking about it. Though, at least she could no more use his magic than I could use the fairy dust when I had it. And to add insult to injury, I've been roped into this absurdity of baking chocolate chip cookies for a bake sale. A Christmas bake sale. For nuns who are really Good Fairies. That I've cursed.

Oh, the absurdity of it all.

Lost in my own irritation and mixed feelings, it takes me too long to notice that Emma is as tense as I am. The muscles all over his back are bunched up and he's attacking that poor pan hard enough to bend it. Well now, Regina, time to see if you're as redeemed as your boys hope you are.

Emma jumps as I slip my arms around his waist and rest my forehead at the base of his neck.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to snap."

It's not easy to say, but as Emma blows out a heavy breath and relaxes, I know it is worth it.

"Me too. I really was trying to protect you. I wasn't thinking about invading your privacy."

Giving him a squeeze, I worm my way between his big body and the counter so that I can study the handsome face. Curious, he returns my thoughtful stare, grinning when I slap his bicep when I feel his hands moving.

"No touching with wet, soapy hands. I have no desire to explain hand prints on my back to Henry." Nervous over the sentiment pushing at my throat and chest, I have to look away from the intense green gaze, instead staring at his sternum, almost able to see the strong heart beneath. "Thank you," I finally manage to articulate. "For standing up for me."

Oh, his kisses are intoxicating. Eagerly embracing him, I run my hands over his strong back and respond ardently to his coaxing mouth.

Both of us groan in disappointment to hear the school bus' brakes outside.

"Later, handsome," I promise with a grin and duck away, quickly checking my appearance in one of the newer mirrors in the front hall. Smoothing out what's left of my lipstick, I pat my hair down and wait for Henry to barrel through the front door.

 

++ Emma ++

(12-12-12)

"Stupid cookies."

I've been eating the damn things all day, and that's after sending a couple dozen into school with Henry. It hadn't occurred to me that the bake sale wasn't for another week. God, I'm an idiot sometimes. But at least the kid had helped me bake the rest of the prepared dough and not add any more nasty black smoke to the house. And I'd still warranted a dinner invitation as long as I cleaned up the kitchen.

It was definitely worth scrubbing up the mess to hang out with Henry and Regina, even with the familiar distraction of being around my enticing lover. Maybe I'll have to sneak over there today and surprise her...

No luck, as there are sudden heavy footfalls in the hall leading to the bullpen. 

"Afternoon," I call out to my mystery visitors, startled when Marco and August step in. The later still looks like hell, the violent bruising from my fist now covering half his face and that eye swollen halfway shut. Neither looks real happy to be here and I lean back in my seat to regard them coolly. "Gentlemen. How can I help you?"

Poor Marco is going to twist his hat in half the way he's worrying it in his hands and August looks like he's ready to bolt.

"I wish to thank you, Sheriff. And to apologize. You finally brought my boy back to me, but my selfishness cost you much. Too much."

For a moment I eye them levelly, running their story from Henry's damn book through my head. It was supposed to be my mother that took the other slot in the magic wardrobe, not Pinocchio. Just one more messed up piece of the puzzle that is Storybrooke and her history. 

"Well, since I'm a parent now, I think I get your motivations. August, you and me still have issues and I hope that your bad habit of lying might lessen now. You're hurting yourself as much as me. But there seems to be no changing my destiny no matter what I might like, so I certainly can't hold you responsible for that. But, you have to do something for me."

"Anything," he says immediately, puppyishly pathetic in his eagerness.

"You get to go explain all of this to Regina. And apologize to her too."

Heh. They hadn't expected that one. First, Marco opens his mouth as though to say something, before closing it again, then August does the same.

"I suppose just killing me outright would be too merciful."

The mournful sarcasm from the man who should have been my brother makes me scoff humorlessly.

"Oh, she won't kill you, Pinoc. But she'll scare the crap out of you making you wonder what she might do. Regardless, you have to do it. You manipulated her too."

For a moment, I really think he's going to puss out. There's a real panic in his eye, but then he looks at his father, the lonely man who wanted him so badly, and the decision is made. With a nod, I have him at my mercy.

 

++ Killian ++

"You helped her fool me into thinking she was dead."

The voice breaking into my concentration is both a surprise and yet has been almost expected. Honestly, I’m shocked it's taken her this long to search me out.

"Regina," I greet her coolly and wisely watch the expressive eyes for signs of danger. "So nice to see you too."

Her eyes narrow and I hope that our location in the diner will keep her from doing something violent. But, unlike the brash madwoman I met all those years ago, this version of her just eyes me in a contemplative quiet. It's far more effective then ranting, cajoling or threatening and I sigh with resignation.

"You have been hanging around your sheriff too long. Fine, what exactly do you want to know? Yes, she was more frightening than you and I switched allegiances. Yes, she paid me with promises to help me ruin Rumpelstiltskin. Yes, she fooled you into thinking she was dead, though I have no idea how. Yes, she cast a spell to protect a corner of the Enchanted Forest and hold all of it in stasis for twenty-eight years. A great, purple dome of power I watched close over us as your infernal curse swept over the land. Barely raised it in time, I might add."

Regina's expression has changed while I've ranted at her. The dark head is cocked off in curiosity, her expression thoughtful. 

"It's difficult to believe that's really you."

Irritated by the conversational comment, I speak without thinking. "Try being me."

The vulnerability of the statement angers me, but it is a hollow feeling. My fangs have been pulled right and proper, even my dreaded hook reduced to a utilitarian tool. And yet, I still have few complaints about this new life. At worst, it's boring.

The chime of the diner's door doesn't make me turn my head, but Regina's expression does. Wondering what has startled her, I turn to see who I now know is Pinocchio stumble in from a hard shove by the good sheriff.

"Ladies," Emma grins winningly and sketches a deep bow. "How are you doing today?"

"Sheriff," Regina manages to say in perfect sync with me, our voices a nice mix.

"Mind if we join you?"

I have no issue and immediately scoot over to make room while Emma bumps Regina over with an imperious hip that makes the disposed royal glare. With some reluctance, Pinocchio sits beside me.

"I don't know that you two have been formally introduced. August, Killian Jones. Killian, August Booth."

"Delighted," I can't help but flirt, offering my hand so that we can shake politely. The big lad is only half here in the eyes, clearly frightened and distracted. Hmmm, I'll have to keep an eye on him, he may just need some consoling...

 

++ August ++

Despite my lame shot at levity back at the sheriff's department, I really am terrified about speaking to the Evil Queen. Almost as much as trying to talk to Emma. It's still nearly impossible to reconcile the man sitting across from me as the woman whose steps I had shadowed her entire life.

Some time passes as I stare at the worn tabletop and wrestle with my cowardice. Red brings by more coffee while the other three casually chat about city business and Henry. There's an easy, calm note to Regina's voice that is startling.

Could Emma really be right about her?

Tentatively, I raise my eyes and look at her, unsurprised to find the dark gaze on me. It's hard to believe this is our great enemy, the woman who singlehandedly wreaked such death and destruction. Harder even than getting my head around the changed Emma.

"I'm sorry," I try to say, the words little more than a strangled gasp of air. Come on, puppet boy, you can do this. "I'm sorry... Regina. For manipulating you. Well, helping to anyway, with Henry."

For a long moment, she doesn't speak, just keeps that cool, dark gaze latched on me like a targeting scope.

"I knew getting into bed with Rumpelstiltskin, so to speak, was a bad idea, but I... I really don't remember my reasons anymore. Any of them would sound like a lame excuse anyway. But I’m glad everything worked out, y'know, for you and Henry."

Weakly, my ramble trails off and I'm not surprised that my throat aches with emotion and my eyes burn with unshed tears. When Regina suddenly jumps as though she's been goosed, I'm startled to see Emma pulling back a prodding elbow. The former Evil Queen glowers at him, but there's no bite to the expression. When the dark eyes return to me, I'm abruptly struck by a realization.

She's as out of her depth here as I am.

My shock clearly must show on my face, because her expression darkens for a moment before dissolving into clear... vulnerability.

I am completely floored.

"I..." she tries to speak, her voice every bit as shaken and uncomfortable as my own has been. "I understand doing the wrong thing for the right reasons. Few understand better than I."

Flummoxed by this whole surreal event, I nod silently and blink away the tears to give her my full attention, caught up in this new drama.

"But your mistake was the best thing that ever happened to me. That boy taught me to love again. So thank you."

There is a suspicious brightness to her intense gaze, a sheen of emotional wetness that, with a jolt, I recognize completely. In this utterly unexpected moment, I find myself in complete sync with the woman who would have been the last person in existence I would have expected to. In this intense moment, I see what Emma sees and my false heart is tugged into believing once more.

"You're welcome."

And I really mean it.

 

++ Emma ++

(12-18-12)

The idea comes to me suddenly.

Winter cold has done a number on my skin and the sweet-smelling lotion is a visceral relief from the tightness and itching. Idly watching one handful of thick fingers rub at the other suddenly floods my mind with images. My oily hands smoothing over Regina's skin, everything glistening, her sounds of pleasure changing pitch and intent as I draw out the seduction...

Shaking it off, I smile as much as grimace. Damn woman is always in such a hurry! For pure sexual calisthenics, I don't mind, but I’m curious to know what else this body can do besides 'wham, bam, thank you ma'am.' 

Y'know, I muse to myself, rubbing my chin. It's been far too long since I dropped in furtively. Friday was a long time ago and I was too damn busy yesterday to take advantage of Henry being back in school. I’m way overdue for a house call. So I make a call to the usually surly Leroy to come play deputy for the day and grab my coat to hustle out.

Michael did a great job fixing and refurbing the old cruiser, bless him, and it's spacious enough that I’ve become reasonably comfortable driving it. Swinging through the grocery store, I hide my supplies amidst some innocent-looking shopping I can use at home when I stop in there for the rest of it. The trip takes longer than it should of course, because I get involved with the usual pleasantries with the townsfolk. Being a small town sheriff is like nothing I’ve ever seen myself doing. Add in the fairy tale crap, and it gets all the weirder.

One good thing about Regina being under what is basically self-imposed house arrest, is that I can reasonably assume no one finds it weird that the police cruiser is parked in front of her place regularly. My paranoid, cynical voice-- who isn't nearly as powerful as she used to be-- wonders how long it will be before the affair is uncovered.

The rest of me doesn't care.

Excited by my plan, I gather up my bundles and step back into the dry, biting cold to go knock on her door. As usual, she answers fairly quickly and I wonder again what she's doing with her time. It's a thrill to see the carnal gleam of welcome, not in her expression, but in the smoky eyes.

"Sheriff."

"Regina."

"You come bearing gifts I see."

My wicked grin comes easily, deepening the gleam in her eye. 

"I do."

"Well, then by all means, come inside."

"My pleasure."

 

++ Regina ++

There is no denying that I am thrilled at Emma's unexpected, but hoped for, visit. Longer than forty-eight hours without his touch seems to make me antsy. And it has definitely been longer than that! So, I’m happy to close the ugly brown door and drape myself over my lover for warm, deep kisses.

"Missed you," he murmurs against my lips, making me smile. 

"Missed you too."

With the trade of that sweet sentiment, I'm a little startled when he stops my roving hands, capturing them in his. 

"Patience, sexy lady. Didn't I say I have presents?" 

Curious now, I allow him to gently draw my hands to the small of my back, pressing my body to his. The tease eventually lets up on his playful kisses, pressing a last one to my nose while I open my eyes and scowl. 

"Give me a few and I'll make it worth your while."

"And why shouldn't I just jump you right here in the foyer? Hmmm?"

"Because you're curious."

There is that.

"Fine."

My huffy agreement to his mysterious plans make him grin and release me to retrieve his bulky duffel bag and a familiar grocery sack. Smirking jauntily, he heads upstairs two steps at a time and I shake my head. Really, that one can be such a child, but I do like his enthusiasm!

Minutes tick by and I find myself restless with impatience. What is he doing up there? It is supremely odd to hear the small noises the house makes as he moves about up there in my bedroom. Yet one more change to the familiar. But at the same time... it's so nice to have someone here with me. This house has started to feel too big and somehow to empty, even with Henry back nearly every day.

"Come on up, hot stuff!"

The smell reaches me first, something warm and mellow and slightly fruity.

"Oh my," I admire as he swings open the door to my bedroom with a quirky smile. Now, I have conjured up some lovely fantasy images of that amazing physique, but this is a new one. Made of sheer white t-shirt material, the loose pants cling to his lower body, riding enticingly low on his hips. It's also quite obvious that the pants are the only thing he's wearing!

"Madame," he greets me, gesturing at what he's done to my familiar room. The drapes are pulled and several candles warm the space. There's a rug of some sort tossed over my bed, covered with several fluffy white towels. It is a very enticing, seductive tableau.

Once again, the intimacy of how we have come together to fit so well shakes me a bit. And yet, I don't think I could change this even if I wanted to.

 

++ Emma ++

Oh, the look on her face is totally worth the effort. Startled, but pleasantly so, she takes in my preparations and swallows hard. There's something in her face and body language that I’ve never seen before. If I didn't know better, I’d swear she looks almost... shy.

"C'mere, sexy," I coax, deliberately not approaching her, but letting her set the pace for the moment. "Let me spoil you for a bit."

Her vulnerability might make a real man smug, but right now it just makes me want to protect her. After hesitating long enough to make me start second guessing myself, she sidles over like a nervous cat, but lets me kiss her, sweet and slow.

"See, I got this idea today," I explain quietly and start unbuttoning her shirt, thrilled that she's playing along for now by just standing here passively. "About running oily hands over your skin until you turn to jell-o."

"Why?"

She sounds genuinely curious and I can't help but eye her skeptically.

"Haven't you ever had a massage?"

The cynical twist of her mouth makes me shake my head and feel for her once again. 

"Oh sure, like I'm going to casually get naked around a bunch of cursed people who are terrified of me at best. I think not."

"Then, you are in for a treat! Besides, it will be more good practice for my fine motor control, right?"

Not actually looking for a reply, I flick her shirt off her shoulders and give her nipples a quick caress as I kiss her and then efficiently strip her with little preamble.

"If you wanted me naked anyway, why all the mystery?" 

Her dry humor makes me chuckle and press her towards the bed.

"Just lie down on your belly and get comfy. Tell me if I do something that hurts or makes you uncomfortable, okay?"

While she does as ordered, I grab the baby oil and squirt a generous mess of it into my palm. It was an unexpected find, this thick, gel-like formula in a convenient squeeze tube. Tossing the tube next to Regina's hip, I carefully straddle her thighs while rubbing the oil warm in my hands.

Now, I've never done this, nor have I had someone seduce me with it, but I have paid a masseuse and loved it. So, I’ll draw off those memories and some casual research over my years, and, of course, her feedback.

Feedback that starts with a faintly startled note at the touch of my slick hands. 

"It's just plain, unscented baby oil," I explain gently while enjoying the planes of her sculpted back. "Gentle on the skin and easy to wash off. The rug and towels are nice and thick to protect your bed and there's a snack if you get the munchies. Just relax and enjoy."


	20. Caught Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Henry finally figures it out!

++ Regina ++

I will admit that the first touch of Emma's slick hands made me jump, the feel of it disconcerting. Though, with an explanation of the oily sensation being something familiar and not disgusting, I can concentrate on how different his touch is.

These hands have touched me frequently over the weeks we've been lovers, and their shape is intimately familiar. The concave softness of palms and the lightly calloused length of thick fingers trace the planes and hollows of my back. Flexing and pressing makes me hyper aware of my own flesh, heats my skin, and calls up a stiff, pleasurable ache. It's not quite pain exactly, or at least not a bad pain, but almost a sensation of relief, like rubbing out a cramp. 

Despite that fact, it is disconcerting to be the recipient of such... focus. For while Emma is a very contentious lover and companion, his focus has never been so devoted for so lengthy a time. Particularly with the sensual, but not sexual nature of his touch. Without that carnal intent I feel strangely... exposed, for lack of a better word. Which is truly absurd, given the nature of our relationship.

No one knows me better than he does.

Does he even know that?

Those hands shape waist, spine, ribs, shoulder blades, the sturdy joint to my upper arms. His pressing and flexing makes me aware of those places in a way I have never experienced, sensitizing my flesh and squeezing away stresses as much a part of me as the DNA my mother gave me.

It's a relief when his hot breath ghosts over the base of my neck, making me moan, soft and high-pitched. Gentle kisses there ground me in my body once more, chase away the dark thoughts that are such a part of me. With his watching my back, I can once again lose myself in his touch, the weight of his large body astride my thighs and the gentle mouth wandering down my spine.

With a small, pleased sound, he leans back once again, scooting his weight towards my feet. Those hands lift away for a moment, making me murmur a protest and him to chuckle ever so softly. The bottle snaps open and squirts wetly before being tossed beside me again. Over my hips to the small of my back, his hands wander, thumbs tracing the shape of the bony plate where pelvis meets spine and the vulnerable little bones that prove us cousins to the creatures with tails. Oily fingertips tease over the curve of my fanny, making me squirm with ticklish lust. This intimate caress is new to me, this worship over the big muscles and their soft padding.

Oh, the press of those palms and fingers into the heavy muscles of my buttocks makes me moan for real, wallowing in the sensations. Dipping deeply into that forbidden crevice makes me blush fiercely, despite knowing that I am clean from my shower. That is a place even more intimate than my heated sex, grown needy with his fingers so close.

Scandalous kisses on my tailbone make me whine in embarrassed need, arousal new and yet still familiar leaving me dizzy.

 

++ Emma ++

Okay, now I'm feeling a little smug as Regina is really starting to moan and twitch beneath my hands. Outside of the kisses, I’m not even actively trying to seduce her yet, but concentrating on the tension beneath her skin. Now, while I’m a total amateur at this, I can still feel that the tension is old, probably a lifelong burden. And, taking in the fact that this town didn't age for twenty-eight years, she's been around for a long time.

But I have lots of skin to go before I give her any satisfaction. Only lifting my hands from her skin to add oil, I caress down her thighs, flexing fingers and palms into the thick muscles like I did with that fine ass.

"Feels good," she slurs sloppily and I grin. Nice to know even that sharp tongue can be reduced to incoherency with the right effort.

"It gets better."

My brag makes her purr throatily as my touch gentles at her knees. Lots of tender sinews and tendons here with bones close to the skin. Nothing but soft fingertips, feeling the complicated joint, raising a weak giggle at the exquisitely soft place at the back of her knee. There's a desperate edge when I slide my hands to her calves and press kisses where my hands have been. Once she's squirming again, I slither away to stand up and shake out my legs, before continuing my pressing caresses into strong calves. 

One thing about all those murderous shoes, is they do amazing things to a woman's lower body! The small feet are calloused and sensitive, with dainty toes that amuse me in a sweet way. Every square inch gets lovin', her pleased little animal sounds echoing my movements. Satisfied with my work, I straighten up and stretch luxuriously to knock the stiffness from my muscles.

"How can you not be turned on after that?"

I've heard Regina complain and rage and berate, but I have never heard her whine. Swallowing a snerk, I tug away the loose pants and crawl back over her, pushing apart her knees with mine.

"Of course I’m turned on," I reassure her, noting with pleasure that her hips have naturally canted up, enticing me with the wet pink of her pussy. Still oily, I caress the outer lips and their neatly trimmed hairs, rough and wiry against my fingertips. "Would you like some lovin', sexy lady?"

"Mmmm, don't tease, Emma," she complains petulantly and does her best to press her hips just that little bit closer to where I hover behind her. "Please."

"You are so ridiculously hot, almost annoyingly so." My voice is growly rumble and I once again run my tongue and lips over the base of her spine, enjoying her needy sounds. "And all relaxed like this, even more so. It would completely drive me crazy if I didn't get to do this."

Guiding the raging hard on I’ve been patiently sporting for some time now, I rest it against that wet heat and arrange my limbs before thrusting deep. It doesn't matter that we've been doing this for nearly a month now, the sensation is shattering, the clinging, humid lush of her around me. 

 

++ Regina ++

Grunting animalistically with pleasure, I bask in the welcome invasion of Emma's hard shaft thrusting deep. So many new sensations batter at me, leaving me breathless. Watery muscles are slow to respond to the adrenaline-like rush of hot arousal and the oily sheen leaves his body almost frictionless against my flesh. No man has even taken me from behind like this, the feel of him surprisingly different from this angle.

Hunched over my smaller body, Emma growls against the back of my ear, the primitive sound making me feel so very vulnerable and yet so utterly protected and desired. Reaching back to grasp the coveted gold mane, I cling hard, whimpering in time to his long, slow thrusts. I have never needed any help with being wet and ready for this handsome man, and the slick of the baby oil has changed the friction of our joined bodies. It is both more and less stimulation than I am used to

With a nip at the base of my neck, Emma stops rocking his hips for a moment, levering his weight onto one knee until he can pull my left leg tight between his, nearly dislodging himself from the needy clutch of my sex.

My whimper of denial isn't feigned.

"I've got you, baby," he purrs, a hand low on my belly coaxing me onto my side. Oh... oh, this too is a new feeling, the way he fills me once more, the slight curve of that hard member touching places within with subtle differences. Gasping, I press my shoulders to the bed as best I can, grabbing his skull to yank him into a hard, needy kiss.

Braced on one powerful arm, he tickles past my thigh to reach between us and caress that hard knot of my deepest pleasure, making me throw my head back and cry out. It's a little frightening, the intensity of these out of my control sensations radiating up and down my sweating, straining body.

Firm teeth on my collarbone drives the madness higher.

There is so much stimulation that I’m dizzy with it, not certain which way is up or down. Whimpering with need, not just for this sweet loving, but for him to keep me grounded, I cling to the silky mane of hair and squirm.

"Want... want to hold you," I gasp and feel his wolfish smile against my skin. With expert fluidity, he has pulled out, rolled me to my back and slid home again, our mouths blended. Grateful for this familiarity, I wrap my legs around his powerful hips as anchor, wordlessly encouraging our efforts.

Tearing my mouth from his, I arch my back, feeling the start of the inevitable peak, the rush of it gathering low in my spine. Loud and strident, my voice is barely recognizable, harmonizing with his throaty grunts of pleasure. Hard, bunched muscles caress my belly and breasts, flex against the back of my thighs. Mouth pressed to his cheekbone, I relish the adored sensation of the short, soft beard against my lips and his breath hot in my ear.

The intensity of what is suddenly happening in and around me is frightening, spirally rapidly out of my control.

This is a sudden test of my trust in him, in this thing we have created between us, the near-living entity of power and fearsome strength, coiling out of my soul to reach for his.

When the tension snaps, I cannot contain the almost painful scream.

It is like nothing I have ever felt before.

 

++ Emma ++

Even expecting the explosive outpouring of magic, I nearly get slammed back by it. Thank all the holies she's too out of it to really do anything with it, more like a random blast of wind. But a frickin' tornado will still kill you.

Sheer, desperate need lights up my spark, soaking up the whirlwind of that violent purple fog, the whole room awhirl with our magics. I fight the urge to mutter something about 'ride 'em cowboy' and concentrate on the heavy, wrenching ripples of ecstasy threatening to tear Regina apart. She's wailing like a crazy woman, back arched, head thrown back, hands brutal in my hair.

Still gently rolling my hips, not thrusting away like some kind of wild animal-- though that can be fun at times too-- I continue to make sure she's getting enough stimulation to have wrecked her in the first place. The second wave is even stronger than the first one, making us both whine with the clutch of those strong internal muscles. I will never take for granted how good that feels! That I could bring her to this place of totally being abandoned thrills me, makes me grit my teeth for just a little bit more willpower, wanting her to get every scrap of pleasure from this experience.

But even my willpower has its limits and, as her wild freefall starts to spiral towards calm, I let mine go, stutter-groaning as muscles I’m still hyper-aware of contract and release with that pleasure/pain that scorches my whole nervous system.

But I don't forget, after those few seconds of gray matter white-out conditions, to make sure my lover is taken care of. It's become very clear to me as I’ve learned Regina better in body and spirit, that no one has ever taken the time and effort to really love her up. It takes time and diligence and, frankly, there aren't a whole lot of guys that ever make that effort, I know. So, I made the effort, and it's clearly paid off. Woman's got some serious rocket fuel in the tanks if she's given a hot enough flame. Lucky me!

Kissing the tense corners of Regina's wet eyes, I keep as much of my larger body covering hers as I can, my warmth a comfort to her now. Rough shivers wrack her and she clings hard to my shoulders, undoubtedly leaving bruises.

Neither of us speaks for a long time. Long enough that I’m more than half asleep after all the work I’ve done, yawning expressively into her sweet-smelling hair.

"So," she murmurs, her low voice cracking like a teenager's and making me grin. "That was a massage."

Like she has done before, her wit cracks me up. Who knew? Nearly every time it startles me how opposite she can be to that prickly evil queen I met all those months ago. Now, she smiles warmly at me, dark eyes glazed, skin flushed and sweaty and I feel blessed to be the only one who gets to see her like this.

"Well, I tossed in a few extras," I muse with false casualness, looking up at the ceiling like I’m thinking. She slaps me on the shoulder, giggling like she's high. Which, in a real way, isn't wrong.

"I'll leave you a nice tip," she growls and yanks my head down to be kissed senseless once more. "That was amazing. Let me see if I can return the favor, hmm?"

Guess she's not done with me!

 

++ Henry ++

My feet are tired, but it's my own fault. Not only did I forget to tell Mom today was a half day at school, but I forgot to charge my phone. So, I waited a half hour just in case she showed up, before giving up and got walking.

Now I'm finally almost home, both cold and sweaty and ready for a snack in front of the fireplace! My key opens the ugly door, which is really quiet compared to the old one, and I pause at...

Is that Mom actually laughing?

Not a little bit of laughing either, but a loud, happy sound that thrills me. When I was little I never understood why she was such a serious person who wanted everything to be perfect all the time. Because of that, I never got to hear that laugh nearly enough. 

Then Emma's deeper voice joins in with a cheesy movie monster roar that makes Mom squeal and laugh even harder.

What is going on?

Not scared, just curious, I peek around the corner into the kitchen and I’m totally shocked. Emma has Mom pinned to the counter by the sink, their bodies really close, and he's got his face pressed into her neck. Her laughter calms down to giggling, and they shock me even more when Emma pulls his head up and they're suddenly kissing, there in the greyish sunlight.

And it's really obvious that this isn't a new thing.

Watching them reminds me of some of the weird, uncomfortable feelings that have been going on in my own body. But, eew, they're my folks!

My folks... who hated each other for so long and then barely tolerated each other and have been getting along really good lately... are kissing in the kitchen!

When I peek again, it's really obvious that this is not a new thing. Mom's got handfuls of the shaggy blonde hair and I can't even look at where Emma's hands are now...

Mom actually shrieks in shock when she suddenly notices me standing here. And Emma's head whips around to stare, eyes wide. Like a complete jerk, I wave kinda limply as Mom stammers my name and they jump apart like they touched something that was on fire.

 

++ Emma ++

Completely flummoxed by a curious and faintly grossed out Henry, I can only stare for a long moment and try to calm my racing heart.

"H... Henry," Regina stammers, clearly as discombobulated as I am.

"Are you guys okay?"

Wait, what?

His sweet face is serious as he sets down his school bag and continues to talk calmly.

"Because I'd hate to go back to everyone fighting and stuff. This is much better."

I can't help myself, I really can't, and burst out in a howl of laughter. Already winded from an afternoon with my lover and the high of shocked adrenaline, I brace my hands on my knees and try to squelch the hysteria. 

Regina's aghast, "Emma!" doesn't help any.

Grinning wildly at my son, I gesture him over and put a big hand on his shoulder to beam at him adoringly. "Y'know, when I came back from the Enchanted Forest, Mr. Gold commented that he wouldn't bet against me. Personally, I think you're even the better bet, smart guy." He grins proudly and I straighten up to also gesture Regina over. "Your mom was helping me out, getting used to being a guy and stuff, and one thing led to another..."

Horrified, Regina grabs Henry as though to shield him from harm. 

"Emma! Be discrete! He doesn't need to hear that!"

Rolling his eyes in the manner of growing sons to their mothers since time immemorial, Henry scoffs, "Mom, please, I'm eleven, not stupid."

Choking back more laughter, I press a swift, sloppy smootch on Regina's lips and herd Henry into the living room since he looks weary and cold.

"What are you doing home so early anyway?" 

Thank all the holies he didn't show up about an hour ago when his mother was making the soundtrack to her own wildlife video! With a twist of a knob, the gas fireplace whooshes to life and I park my butt on the couch next to a pensive looking Henry.

"What's up, kid? Are you worried about me and your mom?"

He hesitates, fiddling with the zipper on his jacket until I reach out and gently put my hand over his.

"It's okay to worry. Neither of us is good at this, but we seem to be doing okay so far."

 

++ Regina ++

Unnerved at being caught out, I remain in the kitchen, leaning against the island, and strive for calm. With my defenses so utterly off kilter from the long, relaxing day under Emma's excessive attentions, Henry's arrival has left me feeling as though I’ve been doused in ice water.

But, at the same time, I am completely warmed by Henry's acceptance of what has been secret. 

"How long have you guys been together?"

In my complete quiet, I can just make out their voices carrying from the living room.

"A little more than three weeks. With a couple of ups and downs in there. Obviously."

Even with a wall and door between us, I can see Emma's lopsided smile. It's a relief when I echo the expression unconsciously. 

"So, like, are you dating?"

"Sorta. I'd like to for real, but it's... complicated."

"Understatement," I hear myself mutter softly.

"If you're going to eavesdrop, Gina, come join us."

Sheepish, but happy for the invite, I push through the swinging door and skirt the dining table to join them. Emma scoots to the far end of the couch, giving me the center spot closest to Henry. Forcing myself not to sit in my usual prim, aloof manner, I press as close as I can to Emma's warmth, turning my body sideways to give my son my full attention.

He seems antsy, the familiar eyes shifty and I have absolutely no idea what to say to him. Ever since that damn book fell into our lives and everything changed, we haven't been the same. The relationship with this boy was once something I thought I knew so well...

"I guess it needs to be a secret, huh?"

He sounds... sad.

It's a shock that I feel... the same way.

Clearing my throat roughly, I’m given strength by Emma at my back, his hand comforting on my hip.

"I think there was... and still is a part of me that always knew that one day I would have to pay a price for all the horrible things I did. And I accept that. It's why I keep to the house. What I truly regret is that I hurt you by mistake. And now Emma too. When... when I didn't know how to care, it didn't matter that I hurt others. But I grew to love you and now my past hurts you too. Keeping secrets only adds to that. I truly am sorry, Henry."

It's been an emotional, tiring day and I’m feeling raw in so very many ways.

But being squashed between my menfolk makes me feel so much better.

 

++ Henry ++

In so many ways, she really is a stranger now, this familiar woman that raised me, who had been the only parent I had ever known until I found Emma. 

"Your story... I mean, your whole story, wasn't in the book."

I didn't mean to say it, but there it is. With a cringe, Mom nods and swallows hard. "Somehow, that does not surprise me. Villains are rarely portrayed as multidimensional."

Emma still doesn't make a sound, but he leans in to press his face against the back of Mom's head and his hugging arm tightens.

"I'm starting to think that maybe fairy tales kinda suck."

Startled, Mom stares at me and Emma moves his face to smile, though I don't think he's actually feeling amused. "Y'know, I always thought fairy tales were metaphors. Y'know, lessons wrapped up in a story so that they meant something more than just being told the rules. They were supposed to teach stuff like 'think before you act' and 'obey your parents' and 'don't wander off alone'. Stuff like that. That there is any truth to them, doesn't matter that it's not of this world is both shocking and a bit horrifying. And that book seems to have left a lot out."

"Or told me what I wanted to hear."

Shrugging a little uncomfortably, I don't want to talk about it, but I hear myself start talking again anyway.

"I've thought that before, that the book was bait. Since it probably came from Rumpelstiltskin, because he needed to get you here, Emma, and only I would have been able to do that, it makes sense."

A thick finger under my chin makes me look up and both my folks look sympathetic and kinda weepy.

"Henry," Emma says quietly. "We were all manipulated. Our best legacy is to not let that hurt us anymore. We're all figuring out how to be our own people now and we're gonna keep screwing up and getting pissed at each other and coming together and being stronger and stronger for it."

Again, I jump on them to hug them hard, ignoring the flash of pain on my scalp where I accidentally knocked it against Mom's jaw. "I love you guys. And when did you get so smart, Emma?"

Both of them chuckle and hug me hard, Mom gasping from how strong Emma is.

"Good genes. Better teachers. You're both inspirations, what can I say?"

At least this time I think Mom's sniffling in my hair is mostly happy tears and I decide that indulging in the childish need to hold her is okay right now. "I'm glad you found each other. And you sure make a good-looking couple."

The try at being funny works, both of them laughing, and suddenly the day is back to being wonderful again. Because, really, now that I've gotten to think about it a little, what could be a better happy ending than this?


	21. Longest Night

++ Regina ++

(12-20-12)

Okay, perhaps I had gone too far...

But Emma had looked so delectable helping me out a bit around the house. Some tasks are just difficult with my small stature. So, yes, I'd started teasing him about his big, strong body actually being useful for more than my love toy.

A poor choice of words, certainly, though I hadn't known it at the time.

Suddenly arrogant and almost predatory, he'd advanced on me, a visceral thrill. From the day we'd met, I could not intimidate this person, no matter how hard I tried. To have him turn that irrepressible strength of will on me was enough to make me want him desperately.

Only to find that I had drastically underestimated that strength of will.

I had counted on the mutual attraction to cow him, let me demand what my body wanted as he stroked and suckled...

Squirming uncomfortably in the soft bonds holding my wrists captive to the headboard, I wonder again, where the hell has he gone? Certainly, he worked me into a wet frenzy-- the ache of sexual unfullfillment even now is sharp and uncomfortable-- before sassily telling me he was leaving me like this. But he couldn't possibly mean it.

Could he?

There had been footfalls on the stairs, and I may have heard the front door...

As though conjured up by my thoughts, the front door slams heavily and I breathe a sigh of relief. Now he'll come back to me and finish what he started. I've grown used to how good he makes me feel that this ache of missing him is honestly bothering me.

And that loss of control freaks me out, making me pull at the makeshift restraints, realizing that I can get out of them if I try.

"Hey Mom?"

It takes a real effort to not shriek at Henry's voice, but an alarmed squeak escapes anyway. The loose blindfold had been sexy at the time, but now has me cold all over in alarm. Wait, Henry's voice had been coming through the bedroom door...

"You okay? Em left a weird note that says to read it to you."

I must make some inarticulate sound of agreement, because Henry's voice one again carries through my door as I struggle with my bonds. Really, it had been sexy at the time...

"It says; 'hey kid, do me a favor will you? Go knock on your mom's door, but do not go in! Just trust me on this one, or it will scar you for life. Just tell her, I told you so.'"

I'm going to kill him.

 

++ Granny ++

"Well, you're in a good mood today!"

Grinning cheekily, Emma sets down the armload of supplies he's just dragged in from the police car. When he'd stopped in for a late lunch, I'd asked him to help me haul food and assorted paraphernalia to the town hall for tonight's festivities. With that sexy grin, he'd easily agreed to help, after grabbing a quick sandwich and coffee to wolf down.

Ignoring my companion for the moment, I cast a critical eye over the table, already decorated and awaiting me to set up the way I like it. The big coffee pot has finally started filling the glass carafes so that I can revitalize the decorating crew scattered all over the big room. Grabbing one of the pots, I turn to call out to the crowd.

Then, trouble walks in.

Oh shit, I haven't seen that look since the last time she actively tried to kill me and mine. Alarmed, everyone tenses for fight or flight...

But freeze when Emma raises a placating hand and addresses Regina with drawling amusement.

"Guess you figured out the solution to that little problem I left you, huh?"

Our former evil overlord is fumingly angry, jaw working, fists clenching and unclenching. But none of us move, counting on the Savior to keep her wrath at bay.

And Regina, who has made empires crumble, killed and terrorized thousands, raises an angry fist...

And punches Emma in the chest.

It's not a particularly gentle punch, but it barely rocks the man back, making him chuckle. Then Regina really flummoxes the entire room further by slapping ineffectually at him like some sort of cartoon femme fatale. 

Before storming out with what I would swear are tears shimmering in her eyes.

"I'll make it up to you!" He shouts after her and turns back to the table to shrug at me. Wryly, he smiles at my confused astonishment and nonchalantly addresses me just loud enough to carry through the stunned quiet. "Foreplay."

I drop the coffee pot with a crash.

 

++ Emma ++

After helping Granny clean up the mess, teasing her about her shocked reaction and getting ribbed in turn, I can finally escape. In the cold, I turn my face to the damp, near-freezing sky and try and keep my head afloat above unfamiliar emotional waters. I'm pretty sure my joke ensured no one looks to closely at Regina's odd behavior, but I can't be sure. Now I'm not sure what the hell to do. I hadn't meant to actually upset her...

"Go apologize, you ass."

Ruby's voice doesn't even surprise me and I look over my shoulder with a crooked grin I don't really feel.

"I'm a little out of my depth here, Rubes."

"Yeah, got that," she snorts and presses a drink carrier into my hands. "Take that to them and play nice."

There are three cups, radiating heat through their plastic lids; marked 'H', 'R' and 'E'. I can smell the hot chocolate and cinnamon clearly and it's making my mouth water.

"Oh, and E?" Ruby's teasing voice makes me look over where she's smirking like she knows something I don't. "If all you'd wanted was just a fuck buddy?" 

Oh, I hope she's not going to say she would have offered or something awkward like that.

"I would have volunteered Granny."

Smirking with triumph at what is surely a dumbfounded expression to match my shock, Ruby sashays back into the town hall and leaves me to crack up in the biting cold. Wiping at my eyes, I tromp back to the cruiser and head over to the Mills house with my booty. I think one of these cups might be spiked. Regina's I assume.

At the ugly brown door, I wait patiently until it swings open to reveal, not my lover, but the boy. 

"Hey Emma!"

"Hey kid, happy Winter Solstice. Special delivery from Ruby."

"Cool!" He crows over his personalized cup and turns back to scamper into the house. That leaves me to let myself in, hoping that a certain ex-evil queen doesn't fry me on the spot. "Mom, Emma's here."

"So I see," is the subtly icy reply and I sigh to myself. I suck at these sorts of things. I've been the love 'em and leave 'em type for most of my life for a reason.

"A peace offering," I coax, waggling the paper cup at her and doing my best to look apologetic.

"What did you do?"

Great, now how do I get Henry's curiosity off my case? Regina's darkly amused expression tells me I'm in stormy waters and better swim with care.

"My stupid joke with the note? Yeah, not so much." When he opens his mouth to say something, I rush ahead. "And, no, I'm not explaining. My joke, my screw up, my apology. So drop it, kid."

He pouts, but shuts his mouth and goes back to his homework, to my relief. Regina's smirk tells me that at least she's not going to incinerate me on the spot, but I'll tread lightly to be safe. Stepping over to the counter beside her, I murmur, "I am sorry."

"Well, you'll just have to make it up to me," she murmurs just as softly and I hide my own smirk. Raising her voice to something more conversational, she says, "do tell Ruby that this is quite delicious."

"Will do."

 

++ Regina ++

"I'm still not sure this is such a good idea."

My complaint is fraught with mixed emotions. These sort of civic functions are old hat to me, and that includes some dangerous situations, but never with someone I actually care about! But Henry had asked so earnestly...

Emma's hands on my back startle me as he tugs the open edges of one of my favorite little black dresses. With delicate precision, the zipper is tugged up, not catching at my skin and I smile. Particularly when he presses kisses to the base of my neck before turning me around in his hands.

Neither of us needs to comment on the heat simmering between us, only try to keep it from prying eyes. 

The most delicate of kisses, more a feather brush of lips, is all I get. A subtle reminder of this lover once being female and understanding not messing up the effort of a fancy makeup job.

"Oh, I almost forgot, I brought you something festive," Emma suddenly comments and goes over to the small bag he'd brought with him to change clothes from. These black slacks are new, tailored more closely to his magnificent body and I really just want to throw in the proverbial towel and drag him to the bed...

"I saw this over by the town hall and couldn't resist."

It's a sprig of red berries and sharply ruffled leaves of deep green. 

"Holly?"

Pleased with himself, he fumbles with an oversized safety pin, fingers slipping beneath the fabric of my dress, not far from my heart. 

"Yeah. Ruby helped me wire the berries in place and snip off the points of the thorns so they don't drive you crazy."

"And here I thought you liked me sharp."

The tease earns me a wry look and he touches our noses together for a moment. 

"Smartass. There, that looks nice. Think I can get Henry to wear one too?"

Another pair are produced and I happily repeat the pinning process on the ridiculous sweater Henry had produced with a flourish earlier. An early gift, he'd grinned shyly and Emma had been delighted. Reindeer dance with gingerbread men on a field of mostly green and just enough red to clash with his coloring. Oh well, at least the small bowtie is a classic black...

"Are you guys almost ready?" Henry asks through the door and Emma calls him in. He looks handsome dressed not dissimilarly to Emma, only with a less tacky sweater, in alternating stripes of red and green. He rolls his eyes at the holly sprig, but lets me pin it to his lapel while Emma gets into some honest to Abe dress shoes. Well, sort of anyway. I'd rolled my eyes at the hiking-type soles of the black leather footwear, but secretly envy them. But the killer heels are habit now and I do like the way they make me look!

So does he, frankly.

 

++ Emma ++

"Your jacket, kid."

Rolling his eyes, Henry dashes back inside and comes back out dressed more warmly while Regina waits to lock the door behind him. It's so bizarrely... domestic that I get an odd shiver. 

"And don't you have something warmer, Missy?" I question Regina over her habitual knee-length trench coat, more suited to rain than freezing temperatures.

"I'm fine, dear," she emphasizes the last word with heavy sarcasm. "I can handle the cold." A sharp shiver makes me raise a smug eyebrow and she glowers. "At least for a little while. I'm used to my tall boots in this sort of weather."

An idea pops into my head and I stash it away for later, offering my hand to help her off the icy porch in those heels. Henry and I sing to Christmas carols on the radio, which Regina pointedly ignores, but the corners of her mouth are twitching in amusement. We arrive at the big town hall building with no incident and I pull the cruiser into my special spot right next to the couple of handicap spots.

"Ah, now I know why you insisted on the rattle trap," Regina acknowledges and looks oddly at me when I tell her to stay put. I shoo Henry off to race across the frosty grass and open Regina's door to offer a hand.

"Can't have you breaking your pretty neck now, can I?"

"My hero," she drawls, but lets me be gentlemanly anyway. Tucking her right hand over my left forearm, I wander the long way around, sticking to the sidewalks. Where the wide brick pathway meets the sidewalk, Regina stops and I look at her curiously. "I... haven't been here in a very long time," she says quietly and I actually have to resist smacking my forehead. 

Captain Sensitivity strikes again.

For nearly twenty nine years this was her castle and it's a suddenly very uncomfortable reminder of our convoluted past. Neither of us moves, trapped by indecision that is thankfully broken by a familiar voice shouting down the walkway. Followed by Ruby trotting over. 

"Just the guinea pigs I was looking for. Get inside before you freeze! Brrrrr!"

Hard hands on our backs leave no argument and we are swallowed up by the warm building.

"I have toddies, hard or virgin, depending on who drove," Ruby rambles happily as I shrug out of my coat and take Regina's as well. "Or mulled wine if that's your fancy. Come in!"

"Hurricane Ruby," I muse fondly and hang up our coats on the rack by the door. "Shall we?"

It's quite an entrance, a lurid mix of pleased, startled and unhappy. Sigh...

"Happy holidays," Regina mutters darkly and I sigh in agreement.

 

++ Regina ++

This has been awkward in ways I have no words for and I desperately miss Emma's presence at my side, his hand on the small of my back. I had expected no one to acknowledge me and no one has disappointed me thus far.

At least the mulled wine is superb.

"You look like you need a top up, love," says a woman's voice I only barely know, the accent so very out of place here. Bracing myself for a confrontation, I look over and take at close look at my companion.

"Hook."

"In the flesh," she bows gracefully and hands over a heavy goblet, hot with the mulled wine. "We've managed to avoid one another, your Highness, though I was there when you arrived so spectacularly to stop the good sheriff from pummeling that man. Quite the story there, hmmm?"

I am uncomfortably reminded of past verbal sparring with Rumpelstiltskin and eye the changed Hook closely.

Just one more chapter of my dark history, here to haunt me. These regrets suck.

Something in the bright blue eyes softens and her body language relaxes. The damaged arm, topped now with a bluntly double pronged, utilitarian prosthesis, I note, gestures at the milling crowd. "Not our style, eh? Yet, there is something strangely appealing about being one of them."

"There is," I hesitate, looking for words, my eyes falling on my son, then my lover. "Worse lives we could be living, yes."

Ruby makes Henry squawk in surprise with a sneak-attack hug, then hands him a gaily-colored paper bag and gets a hug in return. Then, she does the same to Emma, remaining with her arm around the trim waist.

Something dark skitters up my spine, startling me.

She tugs the blonde head down to talk in Emma's ear, making him jerk his head back in shock while the wolf laughs and laughs. My lover's eyes drift to me and I can feel the burn of that look clear across the room. Well, as long as he only looks at me that way, I suppose I can forgive his flirtatious friend...

Ruby's arrival startles me away from the staring contest that has wetly reminded me of how long I have been on the edge. The colorful bag is so foreign a concept that I only stare at it for long moments while Hook crows over hers and rips away the colorful paper to reveal a bottle of amber liquid.

"Rum! Even fancy spiced rum! You do know your pirates, darling!"

Chuckling, Ruby nods in response to the deep bow before Hook dances away. Then she gives me a long look. 

"Happy Winter Solstice, Regina."

Her fingernail tapping the bag startles my eyes downward and I hesitantly pull it open to reveal an exquisite jar of very fancy olives stuffed with garlic. The other object is wrapped securely in blue cellophane.

"From one cook to another," Ruby smiles and taps the blue wrapper, her eyes warm. "That one is for later. Emma knows what it is."

When I figure out the knowing look in her eye, she is already striding away and my cheeks are burning... like other parts of my anatomy.

 

++ Emma ++

That look tells me it's time to wrap up the public part of the evening. I have private business to attend to! Finding Mary Margaret and David in the crowd, I hug them both, swap 'Happy Winter Solstice' greetings and verify that Henry is staying with them tonight. They'd been thrilled earlier when I'd called and asked. They don't need to know the real reason I want the kid out of the house...

Checking in with Henry and sending him off to say goodnight to his mom, I make a quick round of goodnights, giving Ruby a swat for the suggestive teasing. "Bitch!" I yell at her as I collect Regina and she yells back in a merry voice.

"Sasquatch!"

Chuckling, I herd my lover into the hallway where it's slightly cooler and I can gather our coats.

"Sasquatch?" Regina questions curiously and I have to laugh.

"Ruby being Ruby. She calls me that because I'm tall and furry now, remember?"

It earns a warm chuckle and a shake of the dark head as we bundle up and she voluntarily tucks her hand around my arm. It's a sweet, subtle thrill, the unconsciousness of the gesture, after an evening of trying so hard to behave ourselves.

The cold is a slap to the face and lungs, hurrying us both to the car and out of the light breeze. The old cruiser won't warm up before we get to the Mills' house, but it sure beats being outside!

In the lingering warmth of the house, we both unconsciously pause, sending out feelers of instincts, testing for our safety. It's habit now, soothing hurts and paranoia left behind by a lifetime of being on the defensive... and Cora.

Shaking off that unpleasant memory, I grab Regina to kiss her hard and thoroughly. There is no hesitation to the way she pulls at my hair, mouth open and willing under mine. Before we can do more than say hello, I pull away to retrieve her coat and the small gift Ruby gave her.

"Now, I'm sure you're chilled and I need a few minutes to get your Yule gift ready. So you could grab a shower?"

"If you insist," she sasses and runs a teasing hand over my chest as she sashays that fine ass off to climb the stairs. Oh yeah! Gonna be a fun time tonight!

Water hums softly in the pipes as I putter in the kitchen preparing my holiday surprise. It's technically a Christmas theme, but I'm not picky. With Henry spending the night with my folks and my needing to make up for my earlier torture, the timing is perfect.

Gathering up the last of my props, I hustle my ass upstairs while I'm fairly certain she's still in the shower. I get set up and relax against the headboard with my bright red holiday socks crossed at the ankle. When the light from the bathroom slashes into the dim, cozy space, it makes me squint and roll to my feet.

"Hey, gorgeous."

Smiling in that arrogant, smirky way I've come to love, Regina reaches back to click off the bathroom light to once more plunge the bedroom into candlelit dimness.

"Well, hey yourself, good-looking."

I've often wondered in this almost-a-month we've been lovers, what would happen if I turned back. Would we still be like this? Tuned to each other by the pull of our bodies and the slowly intertwining snarl of heartstrings?

I suspect some of this would remain, but never be the same. Which would truly be a damn shame.

Regina smiles and runs her hands over my belly as I tug open her towel and use the trailing ends to pull her to me. Ducking my head down, I kiss her leisurely, in no rush to push the anticipation of what is to come. Softened by good wine and a better life now hers, Regina seems as content as her scarred, restless soul can be. I know how she feels. Elegant hands I adore rove over my chest and ribs to snake around my waist and tug my dress shirt out my slacks. After all of the teasing and anticipation, even the innocent press of her hands to the small of my back is a rush.

"You're overdressed, lover," she murmurs playfully against my mouth and I swallow a grin.

"That I am." My businesslike tone, laced with warmth, makes a dark eyebrow arch, particularly when I start slowly walking backwards, tugging her with me. "But you see, I have important business here."

 

++ Regina ++

I have no idea what the big fool is getting at, but I do love this playful side. 

"Business? Do tell."

Grinning warmly, Em stops at the edge of the bed. "Well, you see, Santa sent me a request, even if I'm a few days early. He wanted to know if you've been naughty or nice."

It's a bittersweet query, no matter how silly it is. Dropping my gaze, I stare at the goofy Christmas sweater that matches the brightly colored socks. One big hand curls around my back and the other coaxes my chin back up to meet his eyes again. 

"See, it's not an easy question with you." Gracefully-- amazing what a month and a half can do-- he sits on the bed, bringing my unresisting body down to straddle his lap. "So, I brought you a special gift."

A gesture to the bedstand makes me look over and blink in confusion. I'm too puzzled to be hurt or angry and can only peer up into the soft green eyes. 

"Coal?"

"It does look that way, eh, naughty girl? But, like you, there is a good, rich sweetness underneath."

Startled, even a little shaken by the sweet sentiment, I feel my wounded heart lurch and race, tears pricking at my eyes. Emma leans over to grab one of the irregular, dusty pieces piled neatly on one of my best saucers. When he bites the thing cleanly in two, I actually startle.

His kiss is rich with strong coffee and sweet caramel, delightful with his own taste and I relish the treat. The kiss doesn't last nearly as long as I'd have liked, but with the sweet treat in the middle, we're going to make a mess. Swallowing and chuckling, he presses the other half of the treat between my lips and I chew slowly and relish his attention to my sensitive neck while those coveted big hands caress my nakedness. 

So that's what had been in the bag that Ruby gave me! I'll have to find a good way to thank her... later.

When Emma abruptly leaves off worshiping my hard, needy nipples to eye me with a waiter's plastic smile and asks, "would you like another?" I could smack him in the head. So I do, making him laugh and stand up with my body effortlessly carried along. In moments I am gently deposited in the middle of the bed to be kissed senseless.

When Em wiggles down my body to continue his ministrations, I grab the bowtie to give it a yank. "Still overdressed," I growl and he grins wickedly before sitting up, pressing my legs around his. Grabbing the saucer to rest it on my belly, he hums something raunchy and tuneless to slowly strip to while I chew on another of the decadent truffles and watch.

The slithering bowtie is followed by the goofy sweater before he evilly lingers over the little mother-of-pearl buttons, teasing me with glimpses of the pale, tight skin beneath. I have so enjoyed being this new man's fashion consultant and personal shopper these formulative weeks. 

When the skinny belt precludes the dark slacks being unbuttoned, I set aside the dish and sit up to help. "You lunatic, you did not wear those," I swear, aghast, and he collapses in hysterics, shaking the bed. The horrid cartoon reindeer briefs emblazoned with the words 'you could even say it glows' across the bulge of his crotch are atrocious and-- to add insult to injury-- another gift from Henry! It would be a mood killer if that deep, luxurious belly laugh were not so contagious. "You are such a brat."

There is no venom in my tone and he grins at me. "Oh, so I've been promoted up from Sasquatch then?"

Mockingly rolling my eyes, I help him get out of the last of his clothes and straddle his belly before he can move. Suddenly feeling serious and sweetly vulnerable, I smile softly. "Thank you, Emma. Having you around has been... strangely wonderful."

"You too."

It's as much sentiment as we've ever exchanged and the tenderness in our kiss both warms and alarms me. Determined not to ruin the moment, I shove away my endlessly convoluted emotions and concentrate on the fine, mundane magic building between us. As a lover, getting to know this new body and everything that comes with it, Emma has been an extraordinary student and partner. Even my stunted emotions have recognized that I cannot see him as subservient any longer. 

And his leaving me hanging earlier was a clue.

That doesn't mean that I can't be my old, bossy self sometimes when we are together.

Clamping my knees to the muscled torso informs him that I am not in the mood to be on my back-- at least for now-- and he focuses on caressing me and bringing up our sensual burn higher. Kissing Emma deeply, I relish his soft lips and the scratch of the pale brown beard. He huffs and squirms when I shift my hands around to tickle at his flat little nipples, which I know are every bit as sensitive as his female body was once. Grinning down at him, I angle my hips, feeling the sturdy erection behind me and lining it up to where I need it, slowly scooting down his body and taking the length of it torturously slowly.

"Regiiiiiiina," he whines pathetically, smoothing restless hands over my shoulders and thighs, messing up my hair. But he makes no move to rush me, for which I'm warmly grateful for. Emma, for all that she was a brash, hard woman, makes an impossibly sensitive man. Both as lover and just in general. I've guessed it stems from having to be so careful in those early days, learning this new body and his new place in what had been her life.

But that sort of introspection dissolves as I sit up, relishing the hardness within me, the open, trusting sprawl of his body, the heat in the hazel-green eyes.

"Your control's getting better," I tease, rocking my hips and making him twitch. For all that I've been burning with sexual impatience all day, this too is tremendous fun.

"Good teacher."

Gentle fingertips raise goosebumps, trailing up the inside of my thighs and my abdomen, tickling through neatly trimmed pubes, giving my clit a playful tweak. With thighs and core still strong from a lifetime of wearing torturous shoes, I rock and thrust into him, enjoying the worshiping hands, groaning at the long-awaited orgasm that rushes over my nerve endings, hard and fast.

 

++ Emma ++

I'm startled and grateful as her body convulses over and around me. God, that feels good...

Reining in my own arousal, I only let her calm a bit, using my hands on her trim waist to bring her to lay atop me to be kissed and stroked adoringly. Catlike, she arches into my hands, moaning softly at the stimulation and I roll us over to our sides, pulling out of her wet heat.

Her noise of denial makes me chuckle and lave attention on her sensitive throat. Many things about this lover are familiar to me now, a complicated song that I am slowly learning all the notes to.

Well, maybe not all. Honestly, I doubt I will ever know all of her secrets. I don't want to know them all, that would be boring.

Her skin tastes clean and healthy, with a hint of salty sweat and that fruity shower gel. While my hand caresses her back and hip, my mouth can continue to worship her front. Blood beats hot and fast in the thick arteries beneath my lips and the corrugated pattern of windpipe trembles with her breath. I spend a long time leisurely kissing the sexy hollow at the base of her throat, my tongue tracing its shape.

Eventually, I explore her strong collarbones and nuzzle down the flat plain of sternum, feeling her round breasts caress my jaw. Nudging with my nose and shoulders, I get her to lay on her back, my hands open on her lower back.

Regina has beautiful breasts, nice, perky handfuls that are not nearly as hefty as some of her outfits might suggest. But naked, like this, her body splayed out beneath my attentions... they're perfect.

Dawdling over the soft mounds, I avoid the pebbled, sensitive nipples, listening to the soft, lazy sounds building in her to tell me how I'm doing. Only when her hands come to alight on my scalp, do I suckle at those lovely peaks until she sobs and writhes, tugging at my hair. But, still ignoring the lingering ache of my own, stiff erection, I nibble over her soft, flat belly. A couple side trips to round hipbones makes her whine and my tongue deep in her bellybutton makes her giggle and yank my hair.

Even lower, her dark pubes mix with the paler hairs on my chin and she starts to tense.

"Trust me," I purr softly, really wanting this to work this time. The first time I'd tried this it was a disaster. She'd been unnerved, no one having ever tried before, and the evening had pretty much been ruined. But this time she's softened up with a quickie and some good mulled wine and plenty of time with my mouth on her skin.

There's still some tension in her, the fear of the unknown, but her legs remain open and relaxed on either side of my torso. Truthfully, I'm nervous too. I've had pretty straightforward sex with Regina a lot these last thirty days since Thanksgiving, but this is different. With the most obvious part of my changed anatomy-- still painfully trapped between my belly and the bed-- leading the way, the sex has been very standard heterosexual fare.

This, my mouth nuzzling at the rough hairs at her groin, is a whole different kind of intimate. This has been hard to get past my inner straight girl, still very much alive and kicking, though mostly resigned to this new life. There's something deliberate and universal about my mouth on her pussy, something any couple with at least one girl in it could share.

With my hands no longer beneath her, I can thumb open the thick lips of her soft sex and tickle my tongue into the hot, musky crease. Until recently, I shared a similar shape and knew intimately what I liked. So I start there, finding the little shaft of Regina's clit, a smaller version of the hardness I sport now. Though no less sensitive! Groaning heavily, her voice is harsh and low, her knees rising up and hips canting towards my exploring mouth.

My humming happily makes her voice ratchet high-pitched around my name, slowly dropping back to that throaty register I adore. Nothing fancy is on my agenda for this first real try at really pleasuring her with my avid mouth, just steady suckling at that hard little shaft.

It takes a little coaxing, a little patience, but I hear the changes in her voice, feel her hands and thighs start to quiver, her clit growing harder against my tongue. When her orgasm crests, her voice crying out loudly in the night air, I grin and grimace at the same time. My own need is painfully sharp now, distracting me, and Regina is pulling hard on my scalp, trying to speak coherently.

"Come with me," she finally husks as I rise up over her body, slipping within the spasming clutch of her sex, stampeding me towards a satisfaction long denied.

My own, strangled voice is loud in my ears as I join my lover in bliss.

Exhausted with our efforts, I snuggle down atop her compact body, lazily nuzzling at her ear and habitually checking to make sure we didn't magic the whole damn neighborhood awake. Or blow out the windows again or something equally dramatic. But the longest night of the year is being kind and both of our magics are quiet, a loving background hum that mingles like our body heat.

"Happy Winter Solstice, babe," I murmur against her skin, drinking up her soft giggle.

"And to you, my dear."

With a lazy effort to get the bedding settled over us and my weight shifted to her side, we melt together and hand ourselves over to sleep.


	22. Emotional Rollercoaster

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A trip to the stables unnerves Regina with memories and another level of healing is hers. Then Christmas brings out a whole new set of revelations!

++ Emma ++

(12-21-12)

No more of Ruby's killer mixed drinks for me. The hangover isn't too bad, since Regina helped me burn off the worst of the booze, but I've been better. At least the weather isn't clear and sunny...

"When we get some nice weather, you think you might be able to improve my driving skills?"

"Your driving skills are just fine."

There's no mistaking the devilish smirk on those red lips and I feel my cheeks heat. Stupid fair complexion...

"There's always room for improvement and I like your style of teaching better than David's."

Ha! That got her, the smile turning a little shy.

"And you have an automatic transmission a lot newer than that rattletrap of a police cruiser."

"A good point."

"I get 'em."

Now she's openly smirking at me, which makes me grin. I'm glad for the moment of levity, because there's something bothering her, I can sense it, but have no idea what it is. Frankly, Regina is always deep waters, sometimes calm and sometimes dangerous.

It's insanity to be out in the sudden cold snap that's rolled off of the Atlantic Ocean, but Henry is so thrilled that he finally gets to ride on his own that neither of us had even thought to say no. David still stands in the round pen, speaking instructions, but the two-toned pony is no longer on the long leash... err, lead, I think Henry called it.

Once they finish their woefully boring lesson, Henry brings the pony over to the fence to talk excitedly with his mom and David comes to me with a smile. "It's more interesting when you're involved. Interested?"

"In riding?" My sarcasm isn't feigned. "I can still barely drive, much less coordinate something with four legs. And the last horse I dealt with I was being dragged behind. By my wrists."

"I promise to not go that far," David laughs. "And driving is mostly brains and less intuition. Riding needs both. Besides, it wouldn't be just you. Humor me and come meet this great gelding I think would be perfect for you."

"Ugh, you get the weirdest damn ideas. Hey, you two, we'll be back. David's trying to hook me up with a horse."

The other two adults chuckle at the subtly dirty humor, but Henry is only delighted at the actual intent of the statement. Inside the stables it's not nearly as cold and I shake the snowflakes from my clothes and pull down my hood to ruffle up my hair. Much better.

Yanking open a gate, David gestures at the big brown and black beast standing there watching us impassively. "Isn't he a beauty? Built like a thoroughbred with the temper of a draft. I've been riding him and nothing fazes him. Come introduce yourself."

"This is silly."

"Humor me!"

Holding my wrist, David brings my hand up so that the horse can smell it and I wonder if he bites. Hot breath warms my fingers and the spiky whiskers tickle. I didn't even know horses had those! The warm nose is velvety and I guess I can sorta see why Henry likes these things.

 

++ Regina ++

Oh, how I do not want to be here.

Almost cloyingly close, the ghosts hover over me.

My Daniel, my sweet, loving Daniel once more alive, but only a tortured shadow of himself. Even now, I can remember his bloodied hand chokingly tight on my throat, his breath fetid in my face.

Just there, outside the now empty stall, I was forced to finally destroy any chance of my happily ever after. Just there, my arcane power reduced his pain to dust to blow away in the wind. Just there...

"Learning to ride a horse isn't going to make a prince out of me," Emma's voice laughs nearby, echoed by David's chuckle. The happy sounds push back the darkness threatening to consume and choke me. Blinking at the hot tears burning my eyes, I find myself stepping forward, drawn by a pull I can no longer deny.

Like a ghost, he stands there, head bent near the bay horse's forehead, smile soft, one gentle hand rubbing the flash of white blaze there. For a moment, I can almost see him and a sob catches in my chest.

But, this is not my Daniel, but a miracle brought to me by chance.

The resemblance is only passing, I see that now. Both of them strong men, handsome and kind of face, with their large, sensitive hands. The simple navy pea coat and the sweatshirt bunched up at the back of Emma's neck had fooled me for a moment, shaken me to my bones.

Oh, how I feel I have betrayed Daniel. Not because I have given away the pleasures of my flesh, that sin is an old one, scarred over, but because I know I care about Emma. Care about him too much, I fear.

But I have never been able to forget Daniel's parting words, freeing me it seems, just in the nick of time.

Then love again.

Trembling, I retreat and nearly run right into Henry. For a moment, we can only stare at each other, my sobbing breath harsh in the quiet. Then, he simply hugs me, gives me something to hold onto while my heart remembers how to beat.

It may be moments or an eternity, I have no idea, but his green eyes are somber when we separate only far enough to look at each other. This boy has been my new heart and I'm so very grateful he saw fit to love me once more. In this thick moment, I am struck by how much like his biological parent he really is.

"Thank you," is all I can whisper and Henry nods once, his voice equally quiet when he speaks.

"You're welcome. Come help me brush my horse?"

 

++ Emma ++

"Look, I’m not sold on the idea, but I’ll keep it in mind. At least give me a chance to freak out over the idea of what a saddle could do to my now very vulnerable plumbing."

Laughing, David claps my shoulder. "Men have been riding since the silly things were domesticated. Get over yourself, son." The sarcastic emphasis on that last word makes me stick my tongue out at him. Our laughter makes Henry smile when we come around a corner to find he and Regina brushing the pony. The placid thing looks to be mostly asleep, one hip cocked lazily, head half lowered. "An exciting mount is a dangerous mount," David explains sagely and I expect at least a faint smirk from Regina. But she seems intently focused on the brush she's running over the white and brown fur.

"Brrr! Give you guys a hand? Sooner we get this done, the sooner I can treat for hot chocolate at Granny's!"

They both nod silently and make room for me at the dozing horse's side and I’m struck that something is wrong. But some inner voice tells me to hold my tongue.

And for once I listen.

(12-24-12)

I figured it out as we were driving home, the cruiser wobbling alarmingly on the road, but not endangering anyone, thank god. Nothing was said then and barely a word since, not that I’m surprised.

Henry had told me what happened with Daniel. There, at those damn stables. No wonder Regina had been reluctant to go in the first place...

The deep sadness that had begun to peel away over our time getting to know each other has returned full force. It hurts me to watch her suffer, to see the contrast of this shadowed woman to my vibrant lover. The contrast is all the more poignant because the sadness had been so much less, for a time.

Three days have passed and I still have no idea what to do for her.

The pain in her isn't so obvious at a glance and that seems to reassure Henry, who has finally perked up about it being Christmas Eve. I've been able to watch the subtle changes, because I've barely left this house, even to do my job. The nights have been strange and yet welcome, as Regina clings to me like a lifeline in her bed. There's a desperation to the embrace that has made me feel tender and protective, all amorous intent bled away by the feelings.

The excitement of Christmas has Henry wound up like a crack fiend and he's bouncing all over the house. Despite my worry over Regina, the excitement is contagious. Besides, we've spent the better part of the three long days putting up an insane amount of decorations; boxes and boxes of the stuff. I feel like an employee at a department store, a comment I was actually smart enough to keep to myself rather than try and explain.

The scents coming from the kitchen are trying to kill me in the best way. The woman is a terrific cook, but it smells like she's outdone herself. A glance shows that Henry is still distracted by the tree and enticing gifts and all of the over-the-top shiny. Good...

The kitchen smells even better when I carefully push open the door to see Regina at the sink, swaying enticingly to the music bleeding in from the living room. So I sneak over to gently monster her neck, growling softly, my arms twining around her small body. Her startled squeak amuses me, but I don't get a fork in the eye, so it's a win.

"Miss you. Can you take a sec to come see the tree? Oh, Gina..."

Tilting up her chin, I’m shocked to see tears on the dark lashes and her expression is conflicted and miserable. So I squeeze her close and just listen to her harsh breathing at my shirt collar.

 

++ Regina ++

I cannot shake it, the clinging iciness of Daniel's memory, his body fading away to dust while I choked on my sobs. I'd lived so much of my life in his memory, using that anger and hate to fuel my madness. All that is left now..

Is pain.

Clinging to Emma's strong body as though he is the only anchor keeping me from flying apart, I find it just a little bit easier to cope.

"I'm nervous," I choke out. "About tomorrow."

It's not a lie. It is merely not the entirety of the truth. Besides, I've no doubt that Emma knows exactly what's really bothering me. I've certainly had enough nightmares recently.

"Me too," he breathes quietly. "At least it won't be an intimate little family get together, right?"

The faint teasing note actually makes me huff involuntarily in amusement. Only he would dare to joke about our convoluted and twisted pasts. "At least there's that, yes. Thank you, Emma. For your patience."

His smile is warm when he lifts his head and lets me go to cup my face in his big hands and kiss me tenderly. I am again reminded of my beloved Daniel, but somehow this time the pain is only a reflexive twitch as I'm distracted by the long, sweet kiss that melts me into an agreeable puddle.

"Think we can eat at the coffee table in the living room? Just for Christmas Eve?"

I must hum some sort of hazy, hormonal affirmative because soon I find myself seated on the floor between my boys with a plate of my own good cooking and admiring the glorious tree. No longer does the asymmetry of the conglomeration bother my shattered rigidity, for it makes me think of the bundles of chaos I adore so completely. Henry not only lets me kiss his cheek, but hugs me hard and returns the kiss.

At least the sting of tears is a good thing this time.

Emma wheedles a few stories about the ornaments that have them, the memories attached to them that have only ever belonged to me and Henry. I want to stay focused, to soak up every moment of this amazing evening, but I find myself swaying with sudden exhaustion. Again, I am reminded of the effort of holding everything in. Just a few days of that old habit and I feel like I have been on a death march. 

"Come on, Regina," Emma coaxes as he and Henry suddenly scramble to their feet and I'm helped to unsteady feet only to be pressed to the couch. When I try to protest as Emma coaxes me to lie down and Henry tosses a light blanket over, my lover speaks again. "We'll be back in a few."

"Yeah, you cooked, we'll clean up," Henry smiles and I want to cling to that happy expression forever, but slip away into quiet darkness.

Some time must pass before I blink awake to the dimly lit living room, only firelight and the twinkling tree putting out any light. It's strangely comforting, the lack of obvious electric light, as though I have returned to my childhood when I had no idea where my cursed life would take me. The murmur of voices and the clink of dishes on the other side of the house brings me to weary, bare feet to go in search of the voices that are my source of strength now. Quietly pushing open the door, I get a brief glance of Emma and Henry side by side at the sink before they turn and smile.

"Good nap?"

"Mmm hmmm," I hum woozily and stumble over to be swept up into my lover's powerful arms and affectionately smootched.

"I think we wore her out, kid."

"Well she cooked all day. I'll get the dishwasher started and turn off the fireplace. Hey, Mom, love you. Merry Christmas."

Emma loosens his hold enough for me to relish the offered affection from the son I very nearly lost and I stroke his face lovingly. "I love you too, Henry. Merry Christmas."

"I'll getcha in the morning, kid."

"You got it. G'nite!"

I'm out again before Emma steps foot on the stairs.

 

++ Emma ++

(12-25-12)

"Merry Christmas!"

I'm blearily glad for my larger bulk as Henry, the human tornado, bursts into the master bedroom and jumps on me. Moaning pathetically, I shield his mother from the jostling, shifting her more firmly against my body.

"God, kid, what time is it?"

"It's five thirty! I started the coffee! Come open presents!"

"Give us five, okay?"

"'Kay!"

He's off like a shot, leaving the door open so that light seeps in from the hall.

"Thank you for taking the charge."

"Hey, what are big, male bodies for, anyway?"

She squirms over, and I swear she deliberately rubs up against every sensitive square inch of me. 

"Oh, I can think of plenty of things this big, male body is good for."

Kissing her just gets better with time and practice, even with mutual morning breath. Then, there's a crash from downstairs to remind us that we're not alone. Chuckling against my mouth, Regina presses a thigh up, making me groan breathily at the rigid hard-on straining there. "Go take care of that and I’ll make all of this recent chaos and celibacy up to you, I promise."

"You got it, sexy."

So I scramble off to steal a shower and a few minutes to take care of business, while she does whatever it is she does. Even as a woman, my preparations were as brief as possible, not the long, drawn out femme affairs of my lover. 

Clean, dry and with hormones reduced to a simmer, I find a pair of my favorite warm pants waiting for me, along with a tank, socks and thong. Nice. Somehow I need to find two seconds to get past Henry and brush my teeth and hair in the guest bath downstairs... if I can resist the smell of coffee that long!

Luckily for me, I can hear his excited voice in the kitchen and sneak to the guest bedroom and scrub off my furry teeth and brush out the mop of blonde hair. In the kitchen, I'm immediately accosted by the kid, his flying tackle hug a welcome attack.

"This is gonna be the best Christmas ever!"

Catching Regina's eye, I echo her warm smile. 

"I agree. Now, someone said something about coffee?"

Gripping a couple Christmas cookies in my teeth, I use my free hand to push a faintly protesting Regina out of the kitchen and over to the tree. Henry is delighted, pulling out a pair of coasters for coffee mugs before attacking the brightly-wrapped gifts.

 

++ Regina ++

This is positively surreal. A postcard perfect Christmas morning, my son vibrating with happiness, and my beloved cuddled with me on the couch. A big hand keeps wandering over my back and hip, and there are fleeting kisses to my neck when Henry isn't looking.

Things have been in such a constant state of upheaval that the gifts have ended up being more about quality, not quantity. Even at a precocious eleven, Henry seems to understand, thrilled with drawing supplies, a couple of books, a few new video games and a ridiculously cute lion plushy animal from Emma I would have judged to childish. Watching the golden-furred beast hold court in my son's lap, I see that I would have been wrong.

The shiny green box in Emma's hands makes me nervous. It's so personal...

Grinning faintly, he tears away the paper and opens the box to look at me quizzically. "My shirt?" He's not wrong. It is indeed the heavy cotton shirt he'd worn here that first time we'd all had dinner together. "I wondered if you'd taken it." The sweet tease only makes me smile and nod at the neatly folded fabric.

"Look closely."

Intrigued, he shakes the shirt out, expression changing when he notices it. This is an archaic skill my mother insisted I know, and one I detested. Yet, with so many hours here to myself, I had been seized with the urge to leave a more personal touch on Emma. That the task had ended up being very therapeutic was icing on the cake.

Eying the tiny, colorful stitches, Emma's expression is wondering, the mossy eyes raising to mine.

"Did you do this? God, Gina, this is gorgeous."

Eagerly, he pulls the shirt over his head, not even bothering to unbutton it. A tiny, slender forest of vines and flowers climbs from navel level to twine about replacement buttons in real mother of pearl, wandering off to curly-cue over his strong heart. From where I sit, I cannot make out details, but I know them intimately. This is a gift meant to be appreciated from up close. There is even a pair of red roses on the cuffs, but he'll find those later.

"I love it," he murmurs, leaning over to kiss me with leisurely adoration while I caress chin and cheek.

"I'm glad. I hardly knew what to get you, so I personalized something of yours we both like."

"This is really amazing, seriously."

Shimmying back out of the shirt, he tenderly touches the tiny traces of color with a soft smile. Henry leans over to admire, pointing at the coils that would lay over Emma's heart when worn. 

"It just needs a giant."

We all laugh at that.

 

++ Emma ++

I'm really boggled by the effort in the embroidery. It looks more like a tiny, fine drawing and I have to squint to even see the stitches. This must have taken her days, maybe weeks to do! The kid has gotten me a pair of really comfy leather gloves so that I can learn to ride with him and I know that I have been suckered. He squeals and laughs when I grab him to pin him and tickle sensitive ribs.

"Your main present is from me and Gramps, so you'll get it later."

There are some more clothes, which is what I expected and honestly adore. My new wardrobe has been a ton of fun. I've never been a clothes horse, so all of this is a thrill.

"Finally," Henry sighs dramatically and hauls out my surprise. "The big one!"

"Typical," I tease. "Only caring about the size of the box. You'll learn, kid."

Snatching the box from him, I balance it on fingertips to present it to Regina. 

"I wish I’d had this for you on Solstice."

Curious, she picks at the paper with deliberate intent until Henry is practically vibrating with impatience. "Moooooooom," he whines and she gives him a wry look before violently ripping away the paper. It earns the laugh she clearly wanted and she opens the box and smiles in delight.

"Oh, Emma, it's gorgeous."

I'm rather pleased with the find and how quickly Modern Fashions had tailored the thing for her. It's a heavy cashmere woolen trench coat in a rich burgundy that is close to purple and will cover her up nearly to the ankle. The thing was painfully expensive, but totally worth it.

"There's even a removable hood," I enthuse, silenced by her loving kiss.

"I did say that I’ve been feeling colder lately. Thank you, it's wonderful."

Luckily for how tired I am, Henry isn't hard to persuade to a nap once I've helped raid every bed in the house to drag the bedding over to the tree and fireplace. While we get the nest set up, Regina whips up eggs and toast, not pleased with our sleep arrangements, but letting it go with a sigh.

Once we've eaten the simple, tasty fare, Henry curls up back to back with me, with Regina spooned along my front. The gas fire hums along above us, the warmth as drugging as the closeness of my loved ones.

So far, this is hands-down the best Christmas I've ever had...

 

++ Regina ++

Everything just seems... off somehow. Food tastes wrong, the alcohol I've barely sipped at tastes weird and bitter in my mouth and all these voices jangle my already strained nerves. Once again, I am the outsider, looking in; a fate I have never been able to get away from. My only connection to this reality is the beloved son I learned to love so long ago and my handsome lover. Henry seems to close and yet so very far away right now, laughing uproariously with Nicolas and Michael, high-fiving them and smiling wildly.

"Emma!" Henry's yell brings the shaggy gold hair around, that glorious lion's mane I can still feel in my fingers. The shattering hero's smile makes my breath catch even here in my lonely, shadowy corner. "Come show Nicolas that cool wooden sword that me and Gramps had Marco make for you!"

Nodding, my lover does as bid, but pauses and cranes his head around, looking for something.

With shaken realization, I know, deep in my bones, that I desperately want it to be me.

It floods over me suddenly, like a surge of adrenaline from a close call with another car, or catching a fireball. Both experiences I have had. Nausea hits me low and hard, a fist to the gut, and I scramble for the front door.

I'll have to apologize to David and, yes, even Snow, for vomiting in such spectacular fashion into their shrubbery. Shaking with the physical effort, I abruptly notice the bitter cold, but can hardly care less. I feel as helpless and beaten down as I ever did with mother suddenly. Sniffling, clawing my hands into the frozen, snowy ground, I cannot shake the overwhelming misery.

The crunch of feet in the icy snow is my only warning of another presence and I recoil defensively. But there is no attack, no threat, just a great, warm coat tossed about my shaking body and hard, but strangely gentle hands on my arms. 

"Come on, your Highness," Widow Lucas clucks maternally, hauling up my smaller body. "This is no place to be on Christmas. Feeling any better now?"

All I can do is stare at the wizened hands, brusquely rubbing my icy hands between hers. A kindness, a simple, human kindness that threatens to tear me apart.

Something inside me has snapped, gotten free to race across the terrain of my heart, and I feel dizzy suddenly, my mind pulled back so many years. Chasing that runaway horse, I had been driven by a protective instinct I barely understand anymore. Then I plucked the terrified burr of a girl from the crazed animal, meeting the child who broke me without ever knowing what she had done.

Something in me breaks and the most horrible wail of anguish splits the peaceful night.

 

++ Emma ++

It hits me like an electric jolt, a shrill, lizard-brain frisson of alarm that makes everything else fade away. Voices quiet, motion blurs, as I reach out with animal instinct. 

Someone of mine is under threat.

With a blur of motion-- someone yowls in offense-- I’m moving. Henry's eyes are startled and becoming alarmed at what must be written on my face right now. 

Not him.

What poor, tortured creature is making that horrible, thin sound?

Oh god!

My traitorous body, having been working well for weeks now, decides to trip over Ashley, sending me sprawling. My chest and head smash ringingly to the hardwood floor and Sean yells in alarm. A glance shows that he saved his wife from a nasty tumble even as I scrabble for the door. Again, I batter myself against it, barely able to scrabble the damn thing open, my higher brain functions are so on the fritz.

That cry of anguish is tied straight to my soul, making it keen back in howling sympathy. Regina's hands reach helplessly for me, I dimly note Granny's steady presence move away from the small body, before I am on her.

If only I could absorb her hurt, her loss, take it into me and away from her scarred heart.

Time goes away and there is no one in all of reality save we two. Clinging together like the survivors we are, a lifetime of hurts churns up like so much sea-borne flotsam, carried away by tears.

"I've got you. I won't leave you. I promise."

It's a mantra I don't even realize I’m whispering into the sweet-smelling hair, her scent tinged with fear and bile. Around us is that magic wind whips up its own storm cell, plucking up icy chunks of old snow and dead leaves. Not that I really notice.

Hiccupping and sniffling, Regina leans away only far enough to look into my eyes, tracing over my facial features I only now notice ache appallingly. The pain fades away as though I need her touch to prove that I’m real.

"I love you."

It's impossible to tell who actually said it first, our voices whispering in time. Startled, I search the wet eyes, just as she does to mine. I haven't said the words since Neal... and Henry. I meant them then and I mean them now.

Both of us are rigid with shock and delight, and the world around us crashes back in right on cue with Granny kneeling down to cup a maternal hand to the back of Regina's head. 

"Drink, child." And, like a complacent child, Regina does as she's told, never loosening her drowning grip on my body. "And you, young man, probably need a good stiff drink after trying to batter down the front door with your face."

Only breaking the contact with my beloved's gaze for a moment, I knock back the offered shot glass, coughing at the strength of it. Then, I grip Regina close, still baffled and raw at what has transpired here this night.

 

++ Granny ++

The drama hardly surprises me. Nothing will come easily to these mixed lineages. It's their lot in life it seems. At least the taste of her favored apples has put some color back into Regina's cheeks and her eyes seems to be returning to the here and now. It's not possible for a decent heart to hate this shattered woman, for she is no longer the monster she once was. The savior has rescued all of us, it seems.

"Michael!" I bark after standing creakily in the deep winter cold, shaking off the ice. Really, I’m getting too old for this. Startled, the man pushes his way through the stunned crowd being held at bay by their own conflict and my practiced glare. "Will you and Ruby please get them up and take them home? Henry, grab their coats, come give them a hug and then you can help me try to explain."

The lad flies to obey as Michael gently pulls on Emma's arm to get the lover's combined weight upright, Ruby providing counter balance. There's no way that Emma is letting go of Regina any time soon, clinging to her as though afraid she'll evaporate.

I understand how he feels.

Snow is literally open-mouthed in shock, rigid in David's gentle hold. She will be the tough one, understandably so. How does one forgive an enemy like that? How do any of us?

"Seems like that golden child of yours has broken another curse," I say carefully, and the mossy green eyes snap away from the truck humming away into the darkness to bore into mine. Henry comes to stand beside me, tentatively hugging my arm, his lanky body shaking a bit. 

"That's..." Snow's voice shakes with emotion, ragged with mixed feelings. "That's Regina. And my daughter..."

The crowd is frozen as effectively as any spell by the drama. When I open my mouth to speak, a more appropriate and welcome voice pipes up softly.

"They love each other."

I hadn't thought Snow could look more shocked, but I was wrong. The emotion hits David too and ripples through the crowd.

"I knew they did, but it was good to hear them say it. They've been together for awhile, I caught them kissing in the kitchen a week ago. Mom smiles when Emma's around, she changes and gets gentle and sweet. She's never been like that, though I saw some of that when I was little."

"But," David stammers. "For awhile there, you hated her. How...?"

"No, I hated the Evil Queen. She hasn't been that person in a long time."

From the mouth of babes...

When I beam proudly at Henry, his faintly conflicted expression makes me extract my arm from his grip so I can hug his shoulders. "Good job, son."

"I feel weird talking about Mom to anyone, she's so private."

"Well, she's been hurt a lot. And taken out that hurt on a lot of people. Things are going to get weird now, you know that right?"

"Yeah, I know."

"Well, weirder than just your folks being together."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I’ll bet my eyeteeth that your mom is pregnant."

And Snow faints dead away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is, hands down, my favorite chapter ending in the entire saga. :)


	23. Final Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Love might save Regina, but Cora isn't finished with her yet...
> 
> Hold on to your hats, girls and boys, we're in for a wild ride!

++ Regina ++

(12-26-12)

There are faint memories of being taken home, of murmured voices and a wet rag on my face and hands, my brushing my teeth. Exhausted and sore, I squirm around, barely able to loosen Emma's strong arms, still tight around me in sleep. He murmurs a denial at the breath of air between us, burrowing close, making my breath catch and my heart race.

I love you.

He'd said the words too, both of us shocked, my mind and heart locked to his. Oh, the irony of the Savior Knight being the downfall of my evil self in so many myriad ways. That part of me is still there, an insidious storm of rage and hate, the voice of that dark inner magic. But... she has no power anymore.

A dark presence has been drawn from me, quite literally. I had felt it, poison drawn from a wound, a lanced infection. The pain of it lingers, a burn in my soul... but I feel like maybe, just maybe...

I can finally start to truly heal.

Mother tried to stop that, to halt the progression of learning and loving. And for a very long time now, I have let her succeed. All of the heinous things I have done feel surreal, like a horrible, vivid dream. How I will ever move past that? How will anyone ever forgive what I have done?

Heavy and yet lighthearted with mixed emotions, I resettle my grip on my lover, basking in the sound and feel of his heartbeat. Together, can we really be the people we want to be?

Oh, how I hope so.

Both of us are still mostly dressed and my clothes feel filthy and oddly crunchy from being wet down and then air drying. Abruptly, Emma makes a horrible, strangled sound, groaning faintly, and I lean my head back to startle at the condition of his face. If this is what he looks like after we combined magics last night...

Tracing over the half-healed bruising and the swollen nose, I watch the damage simply fade from existence. I hope Henry will forgive me this, because I clearly have no control over it. Rather than worry and waste this amazing feeling of adoration and being adored in return, I will just bask in it as best I am able.

 

++ Emma ++

From the deep stillness of a dreamless sleep, the electric connection with my lover beckons me home. She is warm against me, a sensation I’m quite certain I will never tire of, a gentle hand tracing my face. Blinking my eyes open, I quietly watch her, basking in her open expression.

"I... love you. I'd forgotten how it feels."

The wonderment in her face scares the ever-lovin' crap out of me, but also makes me, at long last, feel like the center of someone's whole universe. The gift is irreplaceable, fragile, and the most precious thing anyone has ever entrusted to me. And that includes carrying the baby that has grown into the son we share.

"Me too. I love you. Dunno when it happened, but you woke up my heart."

It's a new sort of kiss, the feathery brush of lips neither of us needs to take further. This may have started out as sex, but it sure as hell is so much more now!

A tentative knock at the door pops the bubble of emotion and we're suddenly giggling hysterically. It's another emotional outlet, a welcome one after all the intensity. 

"Come in, Henry," Regina calls quietly, not moving from where she still clings to me. Not that I have any intention of letting her out of my sight any time soon! Rolling onto my back, Regina cradled to my chest, I smile at the boy when he pushes the door open. Instantly, his trepidation evaporates into elation and he rushes in to accept my offered one-armed hug in the bed.

"You guys really meant it!"

Nuzzling both their messy manes of hair, pressed close together, gives me a sense of peace I have never felt before. Yes, I missed out on moments like this because of this woman's pain and insanity, but don't I appreciate it all the more now?

"We did. We do. You ready for that, kid?"

"Ready for it? It's a wish come true! And it's only gonna get better!"

A quiet throat clearing at the doorway makes us all look over to see Ruby smiling softly. 

"Hey, Henry, Granny could use your help in the kitchen. Breakfast in twenty, you two?"

Flummoxed by the unexpected interruption, I nod dumbly and smooch Henry's hair. He pauses at the press of Regina's lips to his forehead, the connection lingering sweetly. "Love you guys," he murmurs and squirms away to follow Ruby out.

 

++ Regina ++

"I need a shower," Emma announces suddenly, unwinding his arms so that he can stretch luxuriously, pressing up my smaller weight with his strong body. 

"I do love it when you show off."

The compliment makes him smile and grab me with muscled arms and swoop in with intent. My hand on his chest stops the advance.

"Not until I've at least brushed my teeth, darling."

Mock pouting, he huffs in a startlingly feminine way, making me burst out laughing, and leaps athletically from the bed. I accept the hand offered and we retreat to the bathroom where I get the shower going while he winces in blowing his nose clean of the congestion from it being so spectacularly broken last night.

"Ow," he complains mildly and stands beside me with a gentle hip check as we clean our teeth.

How stunningly domestic we have become. How I adore it...

With some sweet kisses and much giggling, we strip and climb into the warm water to caress and clean one another. This morning feels so strange, as though nothing has changed, and yet... everything has changed.

The water is getting cold by the time we finally climb out, much better for the sweet bonding.

Swaddled in thick towels, we marvel at the bed, already stripped clean of all linens, taken away along with our clothing from yesterday. On the bare mattress is a stack of clean clothes for Emma, clearly taken from his stash in the guest bedroom. That makes me realize that I will have to make room for him in my life for real now. Love will make the loss of control worth it, calming my natural panic.

It helps that my emotional confusion is echoed in his pale eyes. 

Dressed for a quiet day at home, we follow our noses to the kitchen where Granny has taken over. I just let my territorial urges go, like I have let so many things go. At least I know she and Ruby will be respectful of this sacred cooking space.

Speaking of Ruby, she pads over on silent feet, the wolf in her so obvious now. This girl only bears a passing resemblance to the hussy of a waitress she once was. "Good morning," she says quietly, startling me by leaning in close, eyes flaring moonlit silver for a moment as she inhales deeply though her nose and over her palate. It's disconcerting and a little frightening to see her cursed heritage so strongly in her eyes.

Nodding decisively, she gestures at the table with a grin.

"Park it, guys, and let us spoil you for the morning. Your own personal diner."

"You've got a well-stocked kitchen," Granny compliments brusquely as she spins out a plate of decedent cinnamon rolls to the center of the table and plunks down my good carafe and three mugs. "You keep your hands off that brew, young man. It will stunt your growth. Give me a few and I'll get you something to warm you up."

"Awwww," Emma whines playfully and jumps when the older woman flicks his ear. "Ow!"

It makes both Henry and I laugh and Emma to smile sheepishly.

 

++ Granny ++

I watch them closely as they eat; Emma, Regina, Henry. In my mind, in my animal instincts, now dull in me but still sharp in Red, they settle into something familiar and rare. Good, that is an important step for what I am about to do.

"Wolves have rules."

The words still everyone, all eyes on me now. After a moment, Emma lowers his fork and unconsciously scoots closer to Regina. Good boy. They are true mates already.

"There are obvious things that make a pack work; loyalty, mutual trust, the raising of cubs."

Henry returns my smile with delight. Regina flinches away from my sudden hard look.

"The insane or those that endanger the pack are driven away, even killed."

Letting that sink in, I note how she closes her eyes, expression wracked with guilt and pain, swaying closer to Emma's protective touch. Boy's got a glare on him like his mother's.

"But that doesn't mean the lost one cannot be accepted again. Or even for the first time."

That startles them, their differently colored eyes wide and questioning.

"You're going to need us."

Emma looks as delighted as Henry and Regina is open-mouthed with shock. A raised hand stops any commentary so I can continue.

"There's more, so don't get all excited yet, kids. Now, I’m not your caretaker, but I am now your packmate, and you should have known to be more careful, even new to this body."

I honestly cannot tell if they're being stupid or obtuse, their expressions a riot of confusion.

"Really, kids? Do I have to spell it out?"

Emma, out of some sort of puzzled desperation, looks to Ruby, who speaks gently. 

"Regina, you're pregnant."

The harsh scoff of humorless laughter shatters the warm morning like the broken windows all those weeks ago.

"I assure you that I am not."

 

++ Emma ++

There's a roar of vacuum in my ears as that important little tidbit sinks in. Totally makes sense that the werewolves would figure it out, but wait... Regina said...

"Gina?" I've never called her that in front of people before and the brown eyes blink at me. "It was your mother's curse, right?"

"I told you that," she starts to sneer, and freezes as surely as a deer in oncoming headlights. Both pupils contract to pinpricks, and I hold up a hand to silence anyone speaking.

"But she died. Right here. More than a month and a half ago."

That smart mind is whirling so fast I’m half surprised her ears aren't smoking. I can almost see the mathematical-like computations in her unfocused gaze, weighing what might have happened. Can a curse last past the caster's death? I have no clue.

"Curses are made to be broken," she whispers so very quietly.

Visibly shaken, she once again focuses on the here and now and I scoot to the edge of my chair to lean into her space and take the elegant hands in my own. Maybe I’m numb with shock again, but I find myself grinning like an absolute idiot.

"This keeps getting better and better. Love you."

Sobbing, nearly growling, Regina body slams me out of my chair, Ruby pressing against my back to keep me from going sprawling. Regaining my balance, I hold her just as tight, doing my best to hold her together. She's shaking hard enough that I fear she'll fly apart in a puff of smoke. Standing, holding her close, I give the rest of my... my pack a bewildered look. 

"Umm, give us a few, willya?"

All three nod silently as I walk out and carefully sit on the couch, feeling her thighs stretch to accommodate the new arrangements, her flat belly against mine. Time goes away, the minutes ticking by only by the small sounds of the house, the quiet murmur of voices from the kitchen, our mixed breathing harsh. I stroke Regina's trembling body, feeling the familiar hollows and curves, the places where she's blissfully soft and where bone and tendon lay close to the skin. Is this really happening?

"I don't know," she whispers and I have to wonder if that last thought wasn't accidentally out loud. Her head jerks back and I smile like a fool into the wide brown eyes. "I don't understand. Could..." her voice falters to a whisper of sound. "Could it be true?"

"Sure it could be true. And who would know better than a couple of wolves? I agree with what you said about curses were meant to be broken. Why not this one?" Then a sobering thought kills my smile and sends my stomach plummeting. "Do you hate the idea?"

"No. I... I love the idea," she marvels and I can smile once again.

 

(author's note: There was probably supposed to be another POV in here that I overlooked. My apologies if the narrative seems a bit jarring in the transition from one scene to the next.)

(12-26-12)

It's hard to keep my mind on the here and now, wanting nothing more than to be with my loved ones across town. It's a physical longing and my eyes keep slipping to the windows and the startlingly clear day outside.

The light show outside my folks' place last night has got a whole lot of folks all stirred up. Can't say I really blame them, as the revealed relationship is a bit of a shock.

Then I hear someone say something about 'that spell-bound, besotted boy,' and understandably, my temper flares up. 

"Hey!"

It's no use, as the assembly has slipped into chaos.

Something in me snaps and I leap to my feet, vision nearly red with rage and roar like the lion Regina likes to compare me to. 

"HEY!"

A shocked silence descends, every eye on me now. 

"About damn time you actually listen, instead of ranting like idiots."

"Sheriff Swan," the Mother Superior huffs. "I hardly think..."

"Think? Think?! None of you have done any thinking! You’re yelling and demanding and running around like fucking chickens with your heads cut off! You're not thinking, you're panicking."

Some of my rage calms when they remain silent and I rub the bridge of my nose where a nasty headache is blooming.

"Before anyone wants to go off any more about what you all see as my crappy taste in women, will you please do me the decency to just listen? No one is arguing what Regina did is unforgivable, but can't you make the effort to hate the act and not the woman? God, after what she's been through it's amazing any of you are even fucking alive. Born to insane royalty and the monster that was her mother, her mother, you guys, the one person who should have loved her and protected her and instead abuses and tortures her. Ripped out the heart of her true love right in front of her eyes and then crushed it to dust, then basically sold her off to a man she didn't want like some kind of prized mare, then taught enough power to bring down her entire world by Rumpelstiltskin. Can you imagine what that does to a soul?"

Mother Superior looks like she's winding up again, but pauses when I glare at her. Though, it can only come off little more than tired and wounded. I'm doing my best to ignore my mother's devastated expression, but it's really, really hard. So I focus instead on the head fairy with a level look.

"And where were you? Aren't you fairies supposed to grant happy endings? You can't tell me that little girl, tortured and terrorized by Cora, didn't cry out for help. That you didn't hear her, know her pain. But, no, the stories have to have a bad guy don't they? What was the justification, Blue? Was it was her destiny?"

My throat hurts from spitting out the words, tearing at my flesh and aching heart. Coughing dryly, I rub a fist at the tears in my eyes and try to gather myself, not looking at any of my silent spectators. 

"This horrible cycle has to end, guys. It's already poisoned Henry to some extent, scarred that poor boy irreparably. He's strong enough to get through it, but he never should have had to do it in the first place. Your magical realm is destructive, wildly so! Frankly, I want nothing to do with it, but that's not an option is it?"

 

++ Snow ++

I can't stop the tears, the soft, helpless sobs and one hand reaching out in gut-wrenching sympathy for my child's pain. For Regina's pain and the realization of past sins I couldn't even recognize at the time. Of course father didn't love her... he had nothing to love another wife with. Losing mother left him a shadow of the man he had been, but he adored me so much that I could not recognize that weakness of spirit.

"We did try," David whispers helplessly, as distraught as I, and Emma's wounded smile actually makes me feel even worse.

"I know you did, but that land makes it impossible. Remember, magic always comes with a price. Do you know that I have to squash mine down just to give her some relief? It's like a drug, a need she fights day in and day out. But I also think she honestly can't survive without it either. Can you imagine that? The thing that drives your madness being something you can't survive without?"

"How could we know?"

Yes, that was my helpless voice, harsh with hurt, not just for Emma, but for oceans of mixed feelings for Regina. That has never gone away. Never.

"You couldn't," Emma says, impossibly gently, his expression so sweet, and so sad. "Her defensiveness was like-- and can still be like-- an angry cobra. She's gonna be pissed enough that I’ve said what I have. This might be her last straw and you can finally put her down like the rabid animal you think she is."

"No!"

The cry catches everyone by surprise. Blue is on her feet, face stricken.

"No, Emma you mustn't give up. I'm so sorry! Please, only love can save her and we have all lost sight of that. Please..."

Something changes in Emma, a hot, white spark like... well, magic. Clearing his throat, he straightens up and composes himself. In this moment, he is impossibly and stunningly regal.

"I will never give up on her. Never. I stupidly did it several times before I was head over heels in love and I was wrong every time. I made a promise to us both to trust and believe, shared with Henry, and if Granny and Ruby are right, the child on its way."

 

++ David ++

So, that news may end up being fact after all. In some inane grab at a less volatile subject matter, I hear myself speaking up. "Okay then, I believe you that she's truly changed for the better. So now what?"

Clearing his throat, Emma rakes a hand through his hair and clearly reorganizes his thoughts. "Well, on a completely mundane note, she needs to somehow be integrated into this community. Or, for the first time, as it were. Besides, we're wasting a really valuable skill set on multiple levels."

"What do you suggest?" Marco asks softly. "She does not change her ways easily, nor work well with others."

"Well, she needs a job, first off. I'm her lover and I'm not comfortable about the idea of a bored Regina." There's a ripple of astonished humor in the group at the weak stab at wittiness and Emma rallies further. "But you're right, she doesn't work well with others. Though I suspect she'll actually be quite good at it once she learns how. So, something a bit solitary, but forces her to interact with others. And not something demeaning. She's lost too much, just like the rest of us, and in very real ways, we all hold her fate in our hands."

"What about the animal shelter?"

They all turn to look at me, and for the first time in a very long time, I'm uncomfortable with the scrutiny. Public life was forced on me after taking the place of a brother who had been sold like a commodity to a monster of a king. But I grew into the role out of necessity. First, to save my mother, later to be the prince my True Love deserves.

I never expected to find any empathy with the woman who has been the enemy of my family, of the lands I inherited by sheer chance.

"The horses like her, so it stands to reason that other animals might too. If the veterinary staff will work with her, is that an option she might take?"

If this were anyone else but my eldest child and heir, that weak, wheedling tone in my voice would be humiliating. Emma looks thoughtful, and I'm struck momentarily with the memory of the woman this grown child of mine once was. I'm delighted to realize that she would have been every inch as royal, had she not been changed, the shape not affecting the destiny.

Though I have to confess that I’m not as big a fan of destiny as I used to be.

"I'll suggest it, thanks David. What's been done with the stuff from Gold's shop?"

Again, he's caught us off guard, and Blue speaks up after a pause. "We have returned all of the objects whose owners could be verified. The rest has been stored with me."

"Okay, once she settles in, we'll both come take a look at the rest. Agreed?"

Not an easy deal for the head fairy, but she concedes graciously. 

"Agreed."

We're all surprised when the doors to the nunnery's great room open. Who the hell could get past Ruby standing guard?

"Emma?"

Henry sounds a little freaked out and we all turn to see why. He's tugging at Regina, whose expression is a storm cloud of completely freaked out and inches wreaking panicked havoc. 

Oh no...

 

++ Regina ++

It's a roar in my ears, flood waters pulling me under, a screaming wind that will flay me alive. Some tiny part of me is aware of Henry and Ruby bodily moving me as I struggle for control.

Then blissful relief washes over me as Emma's strong arms and solid body are once more my anchor. Squeezed hard to him, almost painfully so, makes me cry and sob, clinging to his neck, overwhelmed by whatever is happening to me now. 

"Forgive me, Love. I know it wasn't my place to tell them your secrets, I just want them to understand. Please."

This is what Mother never understood, the blinding power of something as simple and complicated as love. I loved Daniel, just as some part of me had started to love young Snow.

The memory that has been niggling at the edge of my consciousness for days, months, years, decades, finally, painfully breaks loose.

The three of us cling together, magic once more whipped up like wind around us.

As fresh and raw as the day it happened, I’m back there, crying over the lifeless body of my lost Daniel, never to feel the living warmth of him ever again. There it is, that stunned horror at the depths my mother would sink to, the travesties she would heap on me.

"Mother, why have you done this?"

Why had she ever done such horrible things to me?

"Because this is your happy ending."

Hands hard on me, she drew me to my feet, brushed aside my confusion and hurt because they didn't matter. The never did. In my pain and fear I had only her, my beloved tormentor, to lean on. Such a sick, twisted relationship we had...

"Oh, you have to trust me, Regina. I know best. Love is weakness, Regina. It feels real now. At the start, it always does. But, it's an illusion, it fades. And then, you're left with nothing. But power, true power, endures. And then, you don't have to rely on anyone to get what you want. I've saved you, my love."

Even now, decades later, I can feel the last of my struggles against the darkness she had forced on me with the abuse and manipulative words and twisted love. 

"You've ruined everything. I loved him. I loved him!"

As it always did, her dark temper flared, cold and implacable in her eyes. Oh, how I had always wanted simply a mother's warm love from this frozen creature...

"Enough! I've endured this long enough. Now, clean yourself up, wipe away your tears, because now," her glee terrified and controlled my emotions as effectively as the bonds she would use to control my body, "you're going to be queen."

It was then that the darkness truly began to seep into me, twisting what good was left. When I wept with fear and agony, she was there, always there, hounding my steps as we prepared for King Leopold's return to finalize the nuptials for which I had been volunteered for. 

The arrival of the elaborate gown and the attendant seamstresses at last drove home that this was not just a bad nightmare I could not wake from. That last fit of rebellion, my panic shrill at what was to become of me, practically a slave to a powerful man I neither knew or cared about, my heart still in shreds. Mother had snapped, the monster I knew lived inside her breaking free as she grabbed my jaw, slamming me into a wall and pinning me there.

"Weak child, you will not ruin this! Your body is a tool, nothing more, and you will be a good wife. Fear has no place in power, never forget that. Your whining about your wifely duties and fear of your husband wanting children by you is weakness!"

Her voice, low and oily then, seeped in like toxic air, suffocating me. 

"In fact, I think a bridal gift from your mother is in order." The dreaded purple smoke whirled in a cursed dance with my fear and pain, mother's voice a hiss of malevolent power. "You will have no children of your own, I curse you to be barren. Love would distract you from the destiny I have worked so hard for. Your only task is to remain fixated on Snow White."

And my mind shatters like a lightning strike.

Fixated on Snow White.

Oh, how well I have lived up to that part of Mother's curse...

Clarity comes to me like a deep breath after being underwater too long. The world feels... raw and overexposed, as though I have been in a fog for my entire life. Emma's eyes, those intense fields of green and gray and gold and brown, are wild in his handsome face, his mouth working in what I realize... is my name.

I have been chained and numb for so long that even my basic senses are overwhelmed, slowly clearing just like the dark smoke wafting away, the fire at last put out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I considered being a sadist and only posting this chapter for the time being. But... I suppose I can be merciful. Maybe...


	24. Future Plans

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With so many changes happening so fast, how will everyone adapt? And I take a crack at a more reasonable take on Regina and Snow's screwy relationship!

++ Emma ++

When I had at last believed that I was the prophesied savior to these lost people of magic, I knew my life would never be the same. My cynical, real-life self would be forever in conflict with the person this new life would make me. And I-- unfortunately-- haven't been wrong yet about that yet.

But some things I never knew. Like how the massive fractures between the people I love hurt me too. How the curse that brought these surreal people here tore families apart and has now left them all emotionally scarred and confused. Even of my own lineage, the more I learn, the more cursed it seems. 

And who could have known Regina bore such a horrible family curse of her own?

That had been quite a thunder and lightning show we'd just put on, Regina ranting out her personal curse in the dead voice of the monster who had given her life. Exorcized now, she is limp and sobbing as my rubbery legs start giving out, barely able to collapse to the floor without hurting either of the people I love most. Henry's eyes are wild and terrified for his mom.

The room is wrecked.

It looks like a tornado has torn through, papers and debris settling as I stare around in wonder. 

"Wow."

The others are stirring, Ruby dashing past me with barely a glance to help Marco up and then giving Mary Margaret a hand as well. They all stare in astonishment around the wrecked hall of the nun's home before all eyes slowly fall to where we three have come to rest.

"Could someone explain to me what the hell just happened?"

David sounds confused and more than a little alarmed, and Henry surprises me with a warm smile. 

"I got this one, Pop."

Sweetly amused by the endearment, I nod and proudly watch him go to the others to explain. Kid's gonna make a damn good prince. In the meantime I cuddle Regina close once again, feeling her shaking starting to calm.

"Oh, Emma," she breathes against my ear, her voice impossibly sad and broken. "I don't even know myself any more. Did I really do all of those awful things? Did I really become my mother so completely?"

Shifting us around so that I'm looking at her strained, sad face, I wish I could spare her all this pain. But all I can do is be honest. 

"Yes. But that curse is gone now and we'll move forward, together, and do the best we can, okay?"

Nodding, eyes closed, she still weeps quietly, a lifetime of pain seeping out of her slowly. A process I'm going to bet will never be over.

Someone has moved closer and I look up, surprised to see the Mother Superior... the head of the Good Fairies. She smiles warmly and touches me briefly on the shoulder, making my skin tingle. 

"You didn't need my help, hero. It seems to me that you both ended up exactly where you needed to be."

It makes me smile with mixed emotions and hold my love closer than ever.

 

++ Regina ++

I feel... cleaned out, scrubbed raw.

An impossible weight has been lifted from me, and yet, I am being crushed by a freed heart impossibly heavy on my soul. The smoky fog has been lifted, truly revealing for the first time the horrors I have inflicted on so many.

All of it feel so... surreal. Almost as though my life really has been little more than a richly vivid story used to frighten children in the night. Almost as though all I have ever been is the amorphous Evil Queen from Henry's book. Not a real person, just a terrifying role forced on me.

Yet who can take responsibility for my actions? Only me. And for the sake of my family, for myself, I will do my best.

Family.

"Emma?" Despite the quietness of my voice, his attention is instantly on me, the green eyes shifting from where the others are picking themselves up from the latest of our magical outbursts. "Granny went and got me a pregnancy test. So far, she's right."

Groaning into his powerful kiss, I feel dizzy with everything that has happened. Curse-broken, loved and loving again, now with a sibling for Henry on the way…

"Can't be more than a month," he murmurs against my mouth, making me shiver. The brush of his lips and the memories of our time as lovers has that effect. "So lots of time to get used to the idea."

"Yes. I'm sorry I came crashing in here so dramatically."

"Nothing to forgive. I love you."

Softly returning the endearment, blissful with the freedom to say it once more, I kiss him again, the world around us fading away.

"So, is it true?"

Once, the interruption would have made me homicidal, that animal rage like a living thing inside me. Staring at Snow White's sober face where she crouches close by, I can only marvel at the empty, still space that once held all of that smoke and fire. It's jarring and the most obvious illustration of what has happened to me, then and now.

"Snow," I hear myself whisper, as though from a long distance away. The mossy eyes like the forests she came to know so well, the legacy passed down to Emma and Henry both, watch me, abruptly widen in astonishment, before flooding with tears. Touching her cheek with wondering fingers, I can only marvel at the cool absence of the seething fire that has driven me for so long. "Snow."

"Regina," she sobs like the child I once knew and I'm suddenly crushed between her small body and Emma's bulk. "I knew I wasn't wrong about you. I knew it."

This is a language I was forced to forget so impossibly long ago. Nearly five decades of a curse I never understood that I bore. Petting the raven's wing hair, I breathe in yet another second chance, letting it settle the deepest and most jagged edges in my damaged soul. 

"Thank you, Snow."

 

++ Snow ++

There has always been a part of me that wanted this. The return of the sweet young woman I had met all those many years ago. It's a barely comprehensible shock to look into the warm, brown eyes and see her again, bewildered and wounded, but there, clear as day.

"I wish I'd known," slips past my tears of joy and pain.

"You did."

The words shock me even more deeply, her smile almost... loving.

"You were the only one who never completely gave up on me. The one person who should have, and you never did." Her expression goes distant and sad, memories clearly returning to her and I share a helpless look with Emma.

"Regina," he murmurs softly, nuzzling her temple, the dark eyes blinking back to the here and now. "There will be time to deal with all of the memories. Rest now, please. It's been a rough few days."

"The stables."

Again looking to Emma, we share our mutual confusion and I look at Regina's peaceful yet conflicted face, her eyes closed, head tucked up under Emma's chin.

"That's when I knew. Daniel told me to love again. Thank you both..."

It takes a moment to realize that she's fallen dead asleep.

Sniffling and sobbing, I let Emma hug me close, despite that our combined weights must be crushing him. 

"Can you forgive her?"

He sounds so hesitant and hopeful that it makes me sob out a laugh. "Yes, Emma, I can forgive her. I bet I can even love her again, since I never truly stopped." Leaning back, I stroke his earnest face, remembering the lovely woman he had once been, and the tiny bundle of infant taken from me. "You never stop loving family. Even when they do horrible things."

And, possibly for the very first time, I am in complete accord with my grown child.

"So, you're going to be a father?"

The affectionate tease makes him blush and nod. Kissing his forehead, I smile, hating to drop any more shocks on him, but I will never have a better opportunity.

"How do you feel about being an older brother?"

 

++ Regina ++

(12-27-12)

Something gently wakes me from a deep sleep, the early morning quiet and still around me. It is a clear night, the full moon shining silvery in the sky, flooding the darkened bedroom in glorious, mysterious light. Emma is warm against my back, his loving arms my haven and safe harbor. I sense Henry close, others ranged about the big house to watch over us while we find our paths again.

Who do I become now? Hate is gone now, evaporated like the purple smoke I no longer feel. I don't even know if I am capable of magic any longer. It would be a relief if I couldn't. The debts I have paid have been high. Too high. Impossibly high.

Now I have a chance once again be that simple girl who had only wanted to be the wife of a stable boy.

Daniel told me to love again. His final gift to me, so that I could at last let him go. Snow found the strength to forgive me. Can others do the same? Can I really become someone I can live with?

Not a monster?

Squirming around onto my back, I'm startled to see the glitter of Emma's eyes in the moonlight bleeding into the room. Even now, that warm, loving regard makes me blush like a innocent girl.

Stroking the strong handsome face, I find myself speaking softly from the heart he has awoken. 

"You remind me of him. Oh, nothing obvious outside of a passing resemblance perhaps. It's your dedication and sweetness. He would have liked you."

For a moment, Emma is puzzled, then his expression clears into a breathtakingly beautiful smile.

"Your Daniel?"

"Yes."

"Wow. That is probably the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me. Outside of 'I love you', of course. I know how you adored him. I'm glad we found this, y'know, again." 

"Me too."

Our sweet kissing is interrupted by a gusty sigh and, to my astonishment, an inky, canine shape rises from the floor between the bed and window, dark fur bathed in moonlight.

Terror grips me when the powerful wolf's head swings my way, eyes glittering.

But the monster does not attack, the woman in the beast silently reminding me that we can all be more than the roles forced on us.

"You're just looking forward to pups underfoot," Emma laughs and Ruby immediately whines happily and comes close enough that Emma can stroke the regal face and ears. "Thanks for the vigil, Rubes."

"Thank you," I whisper and the regal head nods before Ruby returns to her watch. Safe and warm, I snuggle back into my love and return to the comfort of simple, peaceful sleep.

 

++ Emma ++

"Gina, baby please, you're going to hyperventilate."

This would be funny if she wasn't working herself up to the point that I'm expecting her eyes to roll back in her head. A couple times, I've distracted her away from her stress with hugs and kisses, but it never lasts long. 

"I'm fine, Emma."

Ah, there it is, that icy, irritable tone I remember from how our relationship used to be. Before her personal curse broke and love warmed her. Well, none of that. Grabbing a wrist as she paces by for the umpteenth time, I yank her none to gently into my lap, ignoring the jostling.

"Gina," I purr in my best sexy tone, rubbing my short beard over her throat, peppering her skin with kisses. One hand on her back to keep her pressed to me, the other smoothing over the curves of her magnificent ass, I do everything I can to distract her stress. "I love you. Just breathe and feel me. Breathe."

Ragged, her breath slowly begins to slow as the death grip on my shoulders loosens and her hands curl into my hair and around the back of my neck.

"Oh, Em, I'm so sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry for, love. I'm nervous too. And while your being bossy and demanding is sexy as hell," my teasing tone and a sharp squeeze to her butt muscles makes her groan softly and twitch. "You'll have to take a raincheck. I'm not sure the doc wants to come in here to find that I've bent you over that exam table to be screwed senseless." Again, that small note of need whispers over my ear and her clutching hands change intent, I can feel it. "That'd be hot, your gorgeous ass held up for display, your body so easily accessible. I'd hold you down with one hand in the middle of your back, because I know how you love to be bossy and I can't help but hold you down sometimes. Then I'd inch up that tight skirt, making sure to reach between your legs and feel how hot you are through your panties. Would you like that?"

There is a certain note of sexual frustration, a choked groan of feeling that I've gotten a couple times that makes me smile like an egotistical ass. Yeah, I like that.

 

++ Regina ++

Well, my stress level hasn't dropped exactly, but I will admit that this stress is far more pleasant than how I'd felt only a minute or two ago. Oh, that fantasy Emma has planted in my head is blisteringly enticing, making me wonder if we have enough time to try it before the doctor comes back...

No luck as we both jump from the door swinging open with a rush of sound from the hospital beyond.

"Sorry about the wait," our new doctor greets us cheerfully and I relax a little that it's her. The woman is unknown to me, another innocent victim of my damn curse, but she seems at ease with me and that has made a huge difference.

The more I can avoid Whale, the better.

Doctor Kimba is as exotically dark as Sidney had been in life and has a smile that can light up a room.

"Well, congratulations are in order you two. Some of the tests will take a day or two, but your blood count is good and your hGC levels indicate that you're about six weeks along."

"But we weren't together six weeks ago," I hear myself say weakly, my brain utterly confused.

"The numbers can be misleading. The fetus is about a month old, give or take a week. Does that match up your timeline more closely?"

There's a distinct tease to the woman's voice as my mind casts back to a month ago. 

"November twenty-eighth was the full moon," Emma muses. "I hadn't... been with you since Thanksgiving."

All I can do is blush furiously as I remember how we had screwed wildly against my apple tree after Emma had used magic on it...

A hard hug that makes me gasp is a good indicator that mine isn't the only mind to cast back to that pleasant memory!

"So we have your beloved tree to thank for this then?"

I'm sure Doctor Kimba has no idea why we're laughing so hard.

 

++ Emma ++

I shoo the doc off for a few minutes to spend a few kissing and caressing my girl to get her to relax. Not that I blame her. She's in such a weird position in this town, paranoid of everyone and for good reason. Getting naked and into a paper gown so a stranger can get up in her intimate business certainly doesn't beg for ease of mind.

Still murmuring quiet fragments of fantasies and endearments, I peel away her clothes, certainly wishing it was for a better reason than this, but we'll both have to deal. Then, I press her onto the exam table, hovering over her vulnerable body, kissing her deeply, hand wandering over lush curves through the crinkly paper gown.

The doc finds us more decorous, as I've stolen her wheeled stool to stick close to Regina, my arms wrapped around her skull and upper body to keep her calm. Her breathing is harsh and anxious against my cheek as she trembles. 

There's another woman with Doctor Kimba, a bit older and just as dark, with kind but hard eyes. They wrestle in a large machine full of dials and probes, leaving me to hope that I really can keep Regina from freaking out.

"Gimmie just another minute, Doc," I request without looking up, tugging at Regina's thick hair until she is forced to look into my eyes. "Regina, love. You have to trust me, okay? No one is going to hurt you and this is for the good of you and the baby. Now, breathe deep and let me drain you out, okay? Your magic is weak right now, I know, but it's there, just under the surface. I think I can feel it better than you can right now. Relax."

Some part of me wonders what the other women are thinking, as I stare hard into the deep, brown eyes of my love. The purple is a weak flicker and she whines pathetically as I somewhat forcefully pull at that power within her. 

But she lets me do it, lets herself be vulnerable, trusts me to make her this way. It's incredibly humbling, all the more so when I remember who she once was.

"I love you," I whisper, feather soft as tears gather in her eyes.

"Love you too," she manages to gasp harshly around her nerves and stress, clinging hard enough to my skull and shoulders that I'm going to be covered in bruises later. No matter. With Regina's head cradled safely to my neck and shoulder with my upper arm, I trail my free hand from her back to her belly, looking at Kimba to make sure that I won't be in the way. The medical duo trade loaded glances, then nod in sync and proceed as though this situation isn't completely odd.

Efficient and kind, they get the probe set up, warmed and lubed, letting me warn Regina of the intimate invasion of the device. She whimpers and starts to panic, but is subdued by my hug around her skull, my hand low on her belly, my whispered reassurances.

Then... then suddenly, it's all worth it and I nose at her temple and gently give her hair a little tug.

"Gina, look."

And there, on the screen, in grainy black and white, amidst the gray shadows of her innards, is a pool of inky blackness. This is the bubble keeping our miracle child safe and alive, cradling the little garbanzo bean of a tadpole within.

I feel Regina twitch uncomfortably as the picture shifts a bit and I nestle my skull down as close to hers as I can, both of us staring at the screen. There... a flutter of heartbeat in the tiny, primitive body and Regina's hand slides down to cover my own, making the picture ripple again.

Neither of us has words, only the touch of our bodies and the intensity of our gazes on the screen.

 

(Sonograms for inspiration! http://pregnancy.about.com/od/pregnancycalendar/ig/7-Weeks-Pregnant.-ThA/ )

 

++ Snow ++

(1-1-13)

It's late. Or early, depending on how you look at it. The big house has fallen quiet after the low-key New Year's festivities, the town around us still and sleeping.

My Charming has passed out in front of the fire with Henry wedged in tightly between his bulk and Red's whipcord leanness. Only Granny was smart enough to actually find a bed and I don't relish the floor. When my eyes drift over to my transformed daughter, I jump and squeak at the glitter of watching eyes.

"Emma!" I hiss. "You scared me."

"C'mere."

Carefully extracting an arm from Regina's somnolent body curled up possessively atop his, he offers a half embrace. The oversized recliner is new, bought for cuddling and for a higher back to accommodate Emma's long body because he was tired of stiff necks and snoring.

With practiced stealth skills, driven by a maternal nature I cannot shake, I gently pull away Regina's usual brutal footwear and toss a blanket over her. That done, I slip my small frame beneath those feet to snuggle into to Emma's side and rest my head on his shoulder.

He affectionately nuzzles Regina's dark, thick mane, soothing her further to sleep, pressing her body close, before kissing my own crown, resting his cheek on my head. The longed for affection threatens to make me weepy.

"So, I have a theory," he murmurs after a long time and I blink away sleepiness, craning my head to look at his profile. "About how this happened."

Without consciously thinking about it, I've slid a hand across his muscled chest, seeking that place where I can still see Cora's hand buried, and startle at the shape of Regina's hand already there. The touch is relaxed, her face soft in sleep beside it and I leave our fingers barely touching, enjoying the closeness.

"Henry told me back at Thanksgiving that he wished his mom could have a real happy ending. I think that might sort of be what this change was. Me and Killian needed... reinventing for lack of a better word. For all I know, I actually manifested this wacky change, so that I could start over again. All those weeks of learning to physically be this big guy made me aware of being around others, made me sensitive to them. I've never slowed down long enough to learn that, y'know?"

"I know," I whisper, so proud of my once-lost child that I let the tears slip loose. "I've never been prouder of anyone or anything. I don't know how you're going to top this one."

The chuff of laughter makes me smile and Regina to make a kittenish mewl of objection to the jostling. Instantly, he babies her back to deeper sleep with murmured endearments and soft kisses.

All and all, the best new year anyone could ask for.

 

++ Regina ++

After being startled awake to a dog pile of bodies, my morning has continued to be very strange but welcome. Granny had once again commandeered my kitchen to get everyone fed before shooing the whole lot of us out. Honestly, I've barely been in there in nearly a week now. Still off-balance and raw from everything that has happened to me, well us, since Christmas, well, solstice if I were to be honest, I've had no time to even consider bristling at the invasion to my solitude.

It's actually been... rather nice.

Emma's musing voice suddenly breaks into the afternoon quiet. "We totally need a bigger bed. Y'know, so you can upgrade from a queen to a king."

"Good play on words there, princess."

Grinning, I raise myself up on an elbow to study his face. My humor fades as I see the nervousness in his expression.

"Y'know... if I'm gonna be here more and stuff. If we want that."

And there it is. The reality of what has changed between us. But I have lost too much to fear any longer and lean down to kiss him lingeringly. Watching the pale eyes, our lips brushing, I force myself to speak from my reawakened heart.

"Emma, you haven't gone back to that apartment in a week outside of retrieving a few more changes of clothing. I love and adore you and I'm pregnant with your child. Please come and stay with me and Henry forever."

"Yes," he whispers and there are no words between us for some time.

When I wake later, the shadows in the room have lengthened and I am alone in the bed. Before I can even miss my love, I note the dented up pillow beside me and the covers flipped back from his exit. The simple evidence of his presence in my life warms me completely. The door creaks faintly and I grin, not bothering to even raise my head as I feel his presence wash over me.

The squeal of shock at the unexpected splash of icy water on the back of my neck isn't feigned.

"Sorry, Regina," he smiles sheepishly and rasps a hand over his beard as though to chase away more drops. "It's snowing like crazy out there. Let me grab a towel."

Rubbing at the wet chill, I track his progress with my eyes and listen to him ramble. 

"It must have started up when we were up here fooling around. I figured I better get my tail out there and make sure everyone was locked down as safe as possible. Oh, and I swung past the apartment and grabbed a change of clothes and the place is a freakin' icebox, so I came back here. I'll head back out in a few, there were a few storekeepers that weren't quite ready to leave and I want to make sure they get home safe. Putter around the town for a few. Y'know the usual."

This is really quite nice, his presence here, chattering at me about his day as though we are just two totally normal people.

Quite nice indeed.

 

++ Emma ++

After scowling at my reflection-- I really do like some sort of raggedy lumberjack-- I finish stripping my outer layers and wander back into the bedroom. Regina's smile is soft where she sprawls out boneless in the sheets, her tawny-toned body mostly exposed and as irresistible as always.

"Have I told you how amazing and beautiful you are lately?" I flatter, sitting beside her to lean over and nuzzle at her smile.

"No," she giggles coyly and makes a sudden, sneeze-like sound. "Sorry. You tickled me."

"I'm starting to look a bit like an orangutan," I muse and rub my chin while she giggles again. "I still hate trying to get anywhere near my face with something sharp. And the electric thingies are disconcerting on skull bones. I'll have to try to pin down a half hour with David soon or start horrifying myself with my werewolf visage."

Now Regina laughs outright. "I'm going to tell Ruby you said that. But I could help with grooming, Darling."

Oh, I like that idea and can feel the slow smile warming my face. "Yeah, that would be great. And, hell, you're the one that's gotta look at this mug, so you might as well as tailor the look, right? You're also a hell of a lot easier on the eyes than David."

How I love to make this woman laugh. It's a joyful, girlish sound, the best parts of her given a life of their own. With a flurry of activity, she's getting up while I retreat to the bathroom again to strip and toss down the towel to catch stray hairs.

"That's a good idea," she comments at my relaxed sprawl on the floor of the oversized shower. 

"I get 'em," I smirk as she rummages in the vanity and comes up with a comb and a small pair of vicious-looking scissors. I hold the tools as she makes herself comfortable straddling my lap and I have the inane thought that this will be the most unusual foreplay I've participated in. 

"Years ago, I used to trim Henry's hair," she offers quietly, her rich eyes as adoring and conflicted as they often are when talking about the boy. "He outgrew it eventually, but I don't actually mind. I'm a passable stylist at best."

With my arms draped loosely around her, I sit quietly and keep mouth and head still while she studies her task with those serious, warm eyes.

"Looking back, when I first saw you, I think there was a part of me that noted how attractive you are, even if you looked like something out of a horror movie at the time."

I can't stop the quirk of a smile and stroke her warm back affectionately. The rasp of the little scissors is loud in the echoing space, blending with her quiet words.

"Once you'd cleaned up, I was appreciative that you weren't completely some sort of overgrown pretty boy. And while I understand that your reasons for not shaving have nothing to do with your looks, it certainly doesn't hurt."

"Flatterer," I can't resist teasing gently and chortle as she pinches my nose sharply.

"No moving."

Content, I settle in and let her do as she will, safe in her hands.


	25. Cohabitating Valentines

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some snapshots of lives intertwining.

++ Regina ++

(1-3-13)

When he told me that moving in would be a piece of cake, I really thought he had exaggerated. No one's life should fit the trunk of a car. Even if the police cruiser does have a large trunk.

Much of the four boxes is paperwork and a few books, and there are several garbage bags of clothing. The later proved to me again what austere beginnings my lover comes from. He's taken over the guest bedroom upstairs, the one that makes me uncomfortable, remembering my dalliances with poor Graham there. Memories such as those will haunt me all my days. Better to let Emma have it and make it his own. And a separate space for each of us was one of the wisest things he brought up when we negotiated the details of his moving in.

There is a mass of thick, knitted yarn piled atop the one box Emma held to his chest like it contained the keys to the deepest parts of his/her complicated soul. Touching the warm fabric, I wonder what it is, pulling it from the box almost involuntarily. 

It's a blanket, knit from thick, soft natural wool, a purple ribbon woven along the edge.

Squeaking in surprise from long arms wrapping around me, I almost drop the memento, but one big hand clasps over mine. 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

Warm lips kiss my neck for a moment before he speaks.

"It's okay. That is the one thing I've always had. The thing that let me keep my name. See the corner?"

Obediently, I look, seeing how the purple ribbon spells out the small name. I can almost picture it, Snow with barely a moment to kiss her newborn daughter goodbye before James hacked his way through my soldiers to get the babe to that carved tree. Sniffling once again with devastating regret, I turn into his body and cling to him.

"I'm so sorry, Em."

"I know you are, babe. And my forgiveness stands. I think when our kid is born I'd like to pull out my name and add theirs. Seems kinda symmetrical, y'know?"

Nodding, I stretch up to kiss him, needing the reassurance. Something clatters to the hardwood floor, interrupting our embrace.

"What was that?"

Twisting away, Emma bends to retrieve something and chuckles fondly before offering the object to me.

"They must have gotten caught up in the blanket."

"Glasses? But you don't wear glasses. Do you?"

Once again he laughs as I examine the ugly black frames and try to figure out how they relate to my lover. In my mind, I see Emma's original face, her pretty, dramatic features so reminiscent of her mother.

"I wore contacts when you met me. Those lenses are old. Like, back when I was with Neal old."

Like the blanket, it takes effort not to drop them in shock. The reminder of Henry's biological father is still jarring after his dramatic entry and exit into our lives.

"Wait. You just said 'wore'. Past tense. I'm confused."

"I did. When this happened," the vague gesture at his long body makes me smile, finding I've missed the awkward visual cue. "My vision somehow became perfect. When I woke up transformed in the giant's castle, I could barely see a thing. When I accidentally punched myself in the eye, I jostled one of my lenses loose and realized that only then could I see clearly. So, I got the other one out and the rest is history. Actually, on New Year's morning, I brought up an interesting theory to Mary Margaret. Wanna hear it?"

"Of course I do!"

 

++ Emma ++

(1-9-13)

Breathing hard, I stare sightlessly down into the sink and my whitened knuckles clinched around the edge of it. My vision is hazy with anger and the burn of tears, my breath strangled around stress and temper.

I don't even really know how it started, but, god, some of the nasty things we just raged at one another... 

"Emma?"

The suffocating emotion whooshes out of me like a popped balloon at the terrified hesitation in Henry's voice. Poor kid had wandered into the climax of our growing frustration and got caught in the virulent crossfire. He probably thinks he caused it. Calm again and feeling wounded, I turn and offer open arms. "C'mere kid."

The book he'd been so delighted with is hard against my back as he clings tight and fights sniffles against my shirt. "You're... you're not gonna leave now, are you?"

"Not a chance, Henry. In fact, I'm going to go apologize. Beg for forgiveness if I have to."

He takes my offered hand and we head upstairs in search of Regina.

"I'm actually sorta glad we did this."

A disbelieving Henry jerks me to a halt on the stairs and I choke down a weary grin at his expression. "Glad? Are you nuts?"

"Hey, fights are part of loving someone. I learned that from you, kiddo. And it doesn't make the love any less. Just makes me want to fight harder for what's mine."

The bedroom behind the slammed door is dim, only minimal light bleeding around through the curtains. Bed and chez are empty, so I naturally gravitate to the bathroom door. Resting forehead and fingertips on the wood, I can easily feel her stress and misery, hear the quiet sniffles. "Y'know, there were days in jail when I wanted to wade out into the general population and pick a fight just to have some sort of outlet," I hear myself say quietly. "I was so alone, so scared and confused and my whole damn body felt so out of my control, and yet there were other days when he was the only thing that kept me grounded, like I was a cloud full of rain. I was surrounded by terror and violence and a relentless fog of 'don't give a damn'. Jail's tough like that, the feel and too often the reality, that no one cares about you. Just a warm body they're obligated to keep alive until you get chucked back into society."

Leaning against the door frame, I look at Henry, his eyes unreadable in the low light, and slide down to sit on the floor. They should both hear this anyway and only I can tell the story.

"They kept me away from all the other inmates, locked up in the infirmary with the other pregnant women and the ones that were a danger to themselves. We even got the yard to ourselves for an hour a day to wander around in the sunshine. Since it was Arizona, we could do that year round, not like the weather here where winters are so nasty. The constant stream of misery from the other rooms made me so paranoid and I never slept well, though the pregnancy never made that any worse. He was actually a pretty easy kid, letting me sleep and mostly keep food down, no matter how crappy the stuff was. And we ate better than most. The day I gave birth..." Only now do the tears well up for real, memories of that day finally breaking me down. "I couldn't even look at him, just turned my head away and cried. I knew if I did look at him, I would never let him go and I really wanted him to have a better chance than I had to give."

When Henry curls up against my side, I hug him hard and rub my face against his hair.

 

++ Regina ++

Really, I don't know what is wrong with me. It's as though that broken, cursed part of me so full of temper and hate rears its ugly head at the most random times. I don't even remember what had me so angry, snarling and provoking that sweet man I've fallen in love with. 

Then Henry had wandered in, shutting down our burgeoning fight, only to accidentally throw fuel on some very hot embers.

And all he had wanted to do was ramble excitedly about a book he had brought home from the library for his little sibling. All I had fixated on was the laughter and teasing about calling the baby Piglet. They had not been laughing at me, I know that, but my temper flared anyway and I dearly regret some of the things I said. But I'm not good at apologizing, things like that are a language I'm still learning.

I feel almost fearful of Emma's presence at the door to my refuge where I huddle in the dimness near the shower and toilet. 

"I'm not trying to lessen how you feel, Regina," he rambles and I can hear the thickness of tears behind the words. "I just want you to know that you're not alone in this. And I'm not angry with you, I'm really not. I lost my temper and I'm sorry about that. It'll probably happen again, and I'll apologize then too, but I still really want this to work and I'm not leaving, even if you try and run me off. I did that too much, ran off when shit got hard, and I don't want to do that anymore."

I'm moving even before I'm consciously aware of it, yanking open the door and staring down into wet, green eyes. For a moment, I falter at the expression echoed in Henry's youthful face, but force myself to face my problems.

Remember, Regina, you are no longer the Evil Queen.

"I'm sorry too," I whisper and gratefully sink into the offered hug, there on the bedroom floor. Sniffling miserably into Emma's neck, I cling tightly to him, only moving a hand to cup around Henry's skull when he presses into my back. "I haven't felt like that in a long time, so bitter and angry and out of control. It scared me, but I had no right to take it out on you."

Twisting my body to cradle Henry closer on my shoulder, I press a kiss to his temple.

"I'm sorry to you too, Henry."

"Y'know, I don't mind," he muses thoughtfully and lean back to look at him quizzically. "Because, there was a time there, well maybe never really, that you would have apologized. So, thank you, Mom."

Tears come so easily now, with my awakened heart.

For some time, we three just cuddle quietly, filling me with a contentment I never imagined could truly be mine. When my voice speaks up, seemingly out of my control, I amuse even myself.

"Are you really insisting on calling the baby, Piglet?"

The combined laughter is cathartic, soothing our hurts.

"Well sure," Henry enthuses. "The baby's gonna be small and pink and smart and brave. Like Piglet. And I've got an imagination like Christopher Robin, right?"

"That you do, my dear."

"And I loved it when you read me those books," he says quietly and lets me kiss him again, not even squirming away from the maternal attention. "Can I read a little then? To Piglet?"

"Oh, dear boy, I think we'd all like that."

Emma smiles lovingly and keeps an arm looped around Henry as the library book crackles open and his youthful voice begins to read.

"One day when Pooh Bear had nothing else to do, he thought he would do something, so he went round to Piglet's house to see what Piglet was doing. It was still snowing as he stumped over the white forest track, and he expected to find Piglet warming his toes in front of the fire, but to his surprise her saw that the door was open, and the more he looked inside the more Piglet wasn't there." [1]

 

++ Emma ++

(2-14-13)

"Uhhnnnn, oh, oh..."

She's close, rocking urgently atop me, fingers curled into claws against my belly, eyes mere slits as she is lost to her pleasures. God, she's so beautiful and sexy sometimes I still wonder when I'm going to wake up from this dream...

Lusty heat pools at the base of my spine, and the grip of her pussy gets tighter and tighter, her voice growing higher pitched...

The bang of the front door yanks the pleasure sideways and Regina's noises go alarmed. Actually, she lets out a horror movie shriek even as my orgasm crashes over me. Locked into the pulsing waves of release, I'm paralyzed for the moment, only able to grab Regina and curl my spasming body up to groan brokenly into her hair.

I know what just happened, even as she stammers Henry's name and control of my body returns to me. As I subconsciously planned, the bulk of my body is shielding hers from the kid's undoubtedly curious eyes and I wave absently over my shoulder.

"Give us five, willya, kid?"

"'Kay," he mutters and heads for the kitchen while I bury one hand into Regina's sweaty hair, the other around her waist and bossily roll her beneath my weight.

"Gina, Gina," I murmur, kissing her alarmed face. "It's okay, baby. So the kid caught us having sex, big deal. Regina, breathe."

The panic is sincere, for she will always be a painfully private person and her sense of well-being, not to mention her hormones, are seriously askew right now.

"Oh, I have never been so humiliated in my life," she finally half-sobs and she clings to me even as her body language tells me I'm getting shoved away any second now. Right on cue, she does just that, not that I go far, and I soothingly stroke her gently rounded belly. "I'll never be able to look him in the face ever again!"

Not wanting her to get too upset, I roll us to our sides and hug her warmly, stroking her to soothe her body and emotions.

"Calm down and I'll go talk to him."

Startled, she leans her head back to peer at me. "You'd do that?"

"Duh, he's my kid too. Now, give me a kiss."

Still torn between her alarm and her abrupt coitus interruptus, Regina hesitates, nibbling at her lip for a moment, before giving in and kissing me hard and needy. It would so easy to get this back on track, but she needs a few minutes to settle down. So, now that her breathing is relatively normal, I can grab my pants, give her a last smootch and stand to get half dressed. 

"Head upstairs and run yourself a bath, gorgeous. I'll be up in a few to finish what I've started."

With a loving leer that both annoys and thrills her, I finish buttoning up my pants and head towards the front of the house.

Time for me to man up and be the dad. Sigh.

Raking my hands through my sweaty hair, I pad barefoot to the kitchen, grinning when Henry jumps at my appearance. His expression is a riot of emotions; curiosity, disgust, confusion and more than a little titillated.

"Did we miss an early out day again?"

 

++ Henry ++

He's gonna make conversion? Seriously?

Knowing your folks... do that... and catching them at it are two really different things. And are those scratch marks all over his chest and stomach? Oh man... I'm so confused right now that it takes some effort to answer the casually asked question. 

"Uh... no. Since it's Valentine's Day, the teachers thought it would be nice to send us home a little early and I ran into the Zimmer twins and Michael gave me a ride home so I didn't have to call you and I was pretty sure I could get here before you guys left and..."

"Henry, breathe."

The familiar smile irritates me for some reason as I slam my mouth shut. Ignoring me for a moment, Emma pulls out a pair of glasses and pours some juice before joining me at the table.

"So ask."

"I don't have any questions!"

"Bullshit."

The bad word surprises me, because Emma tries really hard not to do that around me. If for no other reason than Mom will kick his butt. But his smile reassures me and I take a drink of juice to buy some time.

"When I was a kid, no one was around to talk to about important, private stuff like this, Henry. This sort of stuff is uncomfortable, but trust me when I say that it's beneficial in the long run."

I'm embarrassed, sure, but I'm even more glad that he's making this effort. 

"We had sex education last year. When things weren't good here."

"Ah," is all Emma says for a moment, clearly remembering how things were before the curse broke. So much anger and hate...

"So I know the, uh..."

"Mechanics?"

His smile is faint and a little teasing and I can't help but smile back. 

"Yeah, the mechanics."

"Well, the mechanics are interesting and fun, as I'm sure you know." The knowing look makes me blush and look away. "But the best part of sex is when it's with someone you love."

"Why?"

"Why? Well, doesn't everyone like something that feels good with someone they love? Hugs. Taking walks, spending time together?"

My baffled and annoyed look makes him chuckle. 

"It's not the same thing. Even I know that."

"I know that, kid, but it's all interrelated."

 

++ Emma ++

Ugh, I suck at this. Okay, Em, come at this from a different angle.

"Look, Henry, science is going to tell you that emotions and attraction are no more than brain chemistry and pheromones, but I swear it feels more complicated than that."

The eleven year old eyes me like I'm an alien.

"Okay, try this one on for size. How did you feel when you hated your mom?"

His expression darkens and becomes conflicted and I scoot my chair a little closer to reach out and give his arm a squeeze.

"Now, how did you feel when you got her back? When her curse broke? When you found me?"

Immediately, his expression starts to clear and he looks at me intently. Gentling even more, I grin lovingly at the son I gave up what feels like a lifetime ago. The son I have been lucky enough to get back, after a wild, emotional ride.

"Someday, you're going to find someone who makes you feel like that and so much more. And then all this annoying, weird sexual stuff you're starting to go through is going to get mixed up with it. It will be the best or worst thing that will ever happen to you. Maybe both. Just remember that me and your mom and your grandparents and your pack will always be here for you, okay?"

I happily accept the choking hug and return it in kind. After a cling, I slap him on the back and set him back on his feet so that I can stand up.

"Now, not to gross you out, kid, but I have unfinished business with your other parent. You good for a bit?"

Making a face, Henry sighs, "yeah, I'm good. I'll get my snack and then go do my homework in front of the fire where it's warmer."

"Turn on the TV," I laugh and ruffle his hair before walking out. At an urgent lope, I'm up the stairs two at a time and around the horseshoe shaped balcony to the master bedroom. Regina's small body is curled up in a tight ball and my heart goes out to her. "Gina, baby, it's okay."

The sniffling has me over to the bed and kneeling beside it in a flash. Her face is wet and her eyes awash with tears. With a soft sound of sympathy, I lever my torso closer and wrap my arms around her as best I can with the uncomfortable position. 

"I'm sorry," she blubbers and snakes arms around my neck to scoot closer. "I know I'm overreacting, but..."

"Gina, darling, don't apologize. You were shocked by the interruption. So was I. Henry will get over it, even if he's going to look at us both oddly for a bit."

There's a soft huff I think might be humor and I shift my left arm around so that I can slide my hand over her belly, now rounding out for real, the hard bump thrilling us both. I adore doing this, rubbing her hard-working muscles, my touch communicating with our tiny child. 

 

++ Regina ++

Oh, how I adore his loving touch. I have from the start and it's near impossible to remember who I was before his imprint on my life. Groaning half with sensual ache and half with relief, I squirm against his caressing hand. I'm torn right now, wanting the reassurances and wanting to push him irritably away and feeling so damn horny my guts nearly ache with it...

Stupid hormones.

"Come here," I breathe out at my lover, enjoying his curl of a smug smile and fighting down the irrational urge to smack it off him. As eager and athletic as always, he slips onto the bed beside me and presses close. Between us, the baby bump is still an odd and thrilling sensation. I hadn't bothered even gathering my clothes, much less putting any on as I raced upstairs and away from the embarrassment of Henry catching us. So Emma has easy access for that caressing hand to range over my swelling abdomen and the wet need for him laying below.

"Now," Emma purrs softly against my mouth, "it's still Valentine's Day and the first time I've given a damn about this holiday because I have you. Right this moment I want you to give up control and let me make you feel good."

He murmurs sweetly at me and strokes through the heat between my thighs, making me groan and cry out. In short order-- my body is still humming from adrenaline and being so close to orgasm earlier-- the climax races over my nerve endings and I can finally begin to relax. Grinning adoringly, Emma shifts around a bit to cuddle my smaller body more comfortably, the baby bump nestled between us. I want to return his sweet sentiments, perhaps work up for a second round of lovemaking, but I'm suddenly exhausted.

"Nap, Gina," Emma encourages me gently, his warm body and caressing hands coaxing away any resistance. "We have all the time in the world."

The windows have grown dim when I wake, disappointingly alone in the big bed. Then I roll over, from my customary position on my left side so that Emma can spoon me, and notice the flawless red rose waiting me on his dented pillow. Truly, there are days I can barely reconcile my sweet, thoughtful lover with the abrasive woman who came to this town and turned us all upside-down. 

Completely charmed by the token, I press my nose to the silky petals and smile. The rose comes with me, waiting on the bathroom counter as I shower quickly and dress in my silky pajamas to join my menfolk downstairs.

I'm in for a sweet evening of lovely little cards and gifts, a surprisingly decent meal and a movie before Henry is off to bed. After that, Emma provides me with all the loving I can handle and I sleep with blissful abandon.

 

++ Henry ++

(2-20-13)

The minute Mom talked about giving up her ginormous closet to change it back to a nursery, the idea had come to me. Luckily, my folks had been easy to persuade and I've spent nearly every extra minute I have in here. Lots of others have helped me, which is really cool, but my folks have been barred from the room. Ruby has been here, and Sister Astrid and the Zimmer twins, but interestingly enough, Granny has been the biggest help. She's got a real gift for this and I've learned a ton from her. And she actually lived in the Enchanted Forest and will talk about what it looked like, adding realism to my project.

Today is a dragon, about a foot long, zipping across the wall's surface and breathing a mouthful of orange fire. I totally made it shades of blue and green so it doesn't look like a real dragon and make Mom and Emma look at it oddly. Y'know, 'cause of Maleficent. Sometimes it's still weird that the things in my big storybook are all true. All those stories really happened to people I actually know. 

Some quiet time passes with me and my dragon and suddenly, after all the days and weeks of work... my masterpiece is done. Excited now, I carefully clean up the mess and go take a shower before heading down to the kitchen where I'm betting Mom is getting dinner ready. Or at least talking to either Granny or Ruby if they're here tonight.

Nope, it's only Mom, humming to herself as she chops vegetables on the kitchen island and I watch her for a moment. Really, she couldn't be any more different from the Evil Queen she once was and I love her all the more for it.

"Hey Mom," I greet her and get a warm smile. "Can I help?"

By the time Emma stomps in, dinner is in the oven and we're watching X-Men on video that gets paused. I get my hair ruffled and I watch my folks kiss. After catching them having sex in front of this very fireplace a week ago, it's gonna take a lot more to embarrass me than them kissing.

"Come with me," I finally beg them, grabbing their hands to tug them upstairs and to their big room where only Mom used to sleep. For the first time since I started my project, the door to the nursery is open. So I push them over to the dark space for the big reveal.

"Did you finish?"

Mom sounds excited and I nod almost shyly. 

"I really hope you like it."

And I click on the light.

 

++ Regina ++

Oh, I know he's been painting the nursery, after all who provided him with the paints? But this... this is wondrous.

"Holy..." Emma breathes in wonder and I can only nod as my eyes try and take in the details. "Henry, this is amazing!"

Amazing is an understatement. Our talented boy has brought the Enchanted Forest to life on the flat walls with astonishing talent. There are dragons and griffons wheeling through the air with the colorful smears of flying fairies in droves. Rolling hills of many shades of green ease into towering mountains that nearly reach the ceiling in places, their flanks many shades of brown and gray and their crowns wreathed in white. At the foot of the largest mountain range, which is the entire north wall, lies calm water, inhabited by scattered boats and a humpy sea serpent. There is a castle that completely covers a small island near the window that looks so very much like Snow and Charming's lost home. A miniscule figure on horseback gallops across the bridge that links it to the mainland.

Off in the distance beyond that island, is a shape no larger than my thumb that makes my heart ache. The summer castle, once Queen Eva's pride and joy, where my madness took its strongest roots. It was there I killed Leopold, that I took Graham's heart, that I trapped my Genie, where I finally ran Snow White out to die.

Henry's arms around my waist makes me jump and disrupts the painful memories. His eyes are conflicted.

"I almost didn't put it in. But it's part of all of us and it's really tiny and kinda harmless now, like how you were once evil and you aren't anymore."

"When did you get so wise," I sniffle, not hiding the tears as I once would have, squeezing my first hero close to me. Emma might have finished saving me from myself and my past, but this special boy started it. "Henry, this whole project is astonishing and beautiful. I cannot believe how intricate it is!"

"Hey, is that an ogre?"

We both look over to see Emma crouched on the balls of his feet, peering closely at the forest floor. Henry bursts into delighted giggling and I have to laugh along with him, especially when Emma playfully glares at us both.

"Cheeky, junior! You definitely have your mom's perverse sense of humor. And a chimera? Gross! Those things were rubbery and tasted like boiled jock."

"I really hope you don't actually know what that tastes like."

My boy's deadpan reply makes me laugh even harder and I hug him crushingly tight for a moment.

"Thank you, Henry, for saying it. Because I was thinking it."

"I know, I could see it in your face!"

Despite our enjoyment at his expense, Emma stands to join the hug, his smile adoring.

"It's really, really amazing, Henry. I can't wait to spend lots of time in here finding all of the details. You'll have years and years worth of stories to tell your sibling in time."

And doesn't Henry look delighted with that idea!

 

++ Emma ++

Dinner had finally dragged us from the nursery to eat and then back to the movie I'd interrupted when I'd come home. I don't think Regina lasted ten minutes of my massaging her scalp and shoulders and she's been sacked out for much of the X-Men's on screen adventures. Though she's clearly having some dream, because she's been muttering to herself and twitching faintly in her sleep. It's sort of like watching a dog chase a rabbit in her dreams, but don't tell her that! Henry keeps glancing back at us and swapping grins with me at her unconscious antics. 

We're nearly through the second X-men movie when she suddenly jerks up from where she has been sleeping half across my torso for the better part of three hours. A glance at the clock tells me that it's past the kid's bedtime and mom is gonna be pissed when she notices. Oops. Better start distracting so that Henry can finish up the last ten or fifteen minutes!

"Hey babe, that sounded like some dream," I cajole Regina gently as she eyes me like a brain-games puzzle, her expression wild-eyed and slightly annoyed and I try not to laugh.

"Really, no more movies with you two."

"Goodness, what on earth were you dreaming about?"

There's some small resistance, but Regina lets me pull her small body more fully to mine.

"You'll laugh."

"Maybe. Tell me anyway."

"Fine. What if we were reversed?"

For a moment I'm baffled, then I chuckle softly.

"You'd make a good-looking man then. I can't imagine otherwise."

"Well, thank you for that anyway. I think I looked like Hugh Jackman."

Now I laugh for real, waving off Henry's confused and mildly annoyed glance over his shoulder.

"He's a little tall to be you."

"Oh shut up. Just because you look like what's his face from The Avengers."

Again, I chuckle, but tamp it down before we attract Henry's attention again. After a quiet moment, I nuzzle down into the thick, near-black hair I covet and murmur teasingly in Regina's ear.

"Well, at least you've got good taste, Jackman's sexy. If we were reversed, I could go for that."

Grinning wryly, she shakes her head, and I can't resist nuzzling at her neck and continuing to speak softly. 

"That'd be hot. Your tawny skin stretched over bulky muscles and some nice, wiry fur scattered over chest and belly. We'd be a good match, my pale girl muscles against that masculine bulk. Yum."

"You make it sound so enticing," Regina murmurs throatily, kissing at my ear. Her body is suddenly squirmy and eager in my arms and I know the unexpected fantasy has turned her on too.

"There's nothing wrong with being a guy. I wouldn't say it's better or worse than being a woman. Just... different."

"As long as I'm with you."

Neither of us pays much more attention to the end of the movie, far more content to pay attention to one another.

 

[1]- The opening paragraph from 'The House at Pooh Corner' by A.A. Milne


	26. Being Human

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blue is feeling the pressures of being human. Is there anyone who help her out?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> At long last, we arrive at the threesome warning! Though really, it's more like a 3 and three quarter-some, but you'll see what I mean soon enough. I await your reaction, good, bad or scandalized! *laughs*
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
>  
> 
> EDIT: The next two chapters do include a third party indulging in adult games with Emma and Regina. If this concept seems out of character to you, please skip this and the following chapters. I am well aware that many will find it jarring, but I do not believe the concept is out of character and it was also some good, clean, adult fun between consenting adults. All you will miss is Blue getting seduced by our happy couple with a bit of help from Ruby. This twist will play a role in upcoming events.
> 
> Thank you.

++ Reul Ghorm ++

(2-23-13)

Everything has spiraled out of my control.

The discordant din of memories both my own and those imposed on me, the jangling, foreign needs of this body all conspire to drive me insane. So many biological drives that only a tiny part of me understands; hunger, pain, the rising ache of the monthly bleed that plagues this body; but it's the lust that is the worst. Nothing about this is comfortable, not to the immortal creature I once was and not to the false life I was given here.

Nuns and good fairies are not supposed to be lusty.

I rail from despair to wanting to go wreak some horrible revenge on Regina for this curse, and Emma for the lusty energy in my body that surely must be his fault after the magical jolt he gave me at the diner. But I know neither is a real truth and certainly no simple matter.

And somehow, that lusty need has driven me to a new level of insanity, the dark, noisy bar where I am battered by yet more stimulation. The reek of cigarettes and alcohol, of over-warm bodies, the press of the hot, thick air.

Overwhelmed, I panic at the sheer stupidity of what I have done, coming to this place. Better to be miserable alone and in the safety of the role I was cast by Rumpelstiltskin's curse than to face what may come of this insane venture.

Jerking my protesting body from the stool I nearly knock Ruby Lucas... Red, right off of her feet.

"Whoa!"

Too mortified and too flustered to speak, I freeze, my mind white noise and my body suffused with hot and cold.

"Hey, hey, Blue, you okay?"

And this is how I learn another human ritual I would have never foreseen. Ruby speaks to the bartender and he immediately lines up two tiny glasses with something amber and faintly syrupy in them.

"Listen," Ruby says with a sweet smile and puts a strong hand on my forearm as though pinning me in place. "I get your stress, I really do. But you're human for now and frankly you need to de-stress just a bit. I'm so not getting you smashed drunk or anything, because my memories are as mixed up as yours and you're still dressed like your nun self, but you really look like you could use a little bit of civilization's oldest medicine. Now, grab that glass and drink it, don't sip it, don't hesitate, just do it. Trust me, I won't let anything bad happen to you."

And, despite the almost dangerous glint in her moonlit eyes, despite the insane morass of emotion and physicality that begs for any small measure of calm, my hand reaches out for the heavy glass. The amber liquid burns like fire, nearly choking me, but I remember Red's words and just swallow the liquid with reflexes that still seem slightly foreign to me.

The fire burns all the way to my empty belly and the heat dissipates outward, bringing with it a form of sweet relief I have never dreamed of. So much of my suffocating stress simply melts away, leaving me reeling.

 

++ Emma ++

"Better get on that, Sheriff," Regina chuckles as we step out of the winter cold and into the cloying heat of The Rabbit Hole. With a quick sidestep around my lover, I leap over to help a concerned and amused Ruby with a brunette that I don't believe what my eyes are telling me until I look her full in the face.

"Jeezus..." I start to yelp in surprise but chomp down on the cussing because I can't help it. Reflex and all that. Though the Mother Superior... Blue Fairy, looks about as opposite to her two selves as she can right about now. With a startled whuff of whiskey-laden breath in my face, I get why. There's a distinctly sweet edge to the booze, I can nearly taste it this close, and her eyes are glassy. "You okay, Blue?"

She tries to speak, but clearly is reeling from the... three shots on the bar, lined up sloppily beside Ruby's neat pyramid of six. 

Growling at the werewolf only earns me laughter and a slap on the back as I use my bulk to keep Blue upright in a half-embrace. Regina wanders over to join us as Ruby explains loudly, "they're only half shots, 'Pops'. I'm not out to kill the woman!"

"You might wish that in the morning," I explain with an affectionate shake of my head. 

"It takes some getting used to," Regina chimes in as she slides a possessive hand over the small of my back under my jacket and vest. Dammit, I wasn't expecting that! It's been a long time since that jolt of our combined magics has blasted over my nerves, but the tattoo will do it every time if she catches me off guard like this. 

The great pane of mirror behind the bar cracks and the overhead light explodes like a flashbulb. Blue squeaks alarmingly, her body jerking in my hold as Regina walks around to my other side, her touch trailing teasingly over my tattoo, making my hips jolt in reflex.

My baleful glare earns one of the eviler smirks I've ever seen on that beautiful face as she lightly kisses me and sashays away. I have to lean back to see around Ruby to watch the display, my body still tingling in all the best ways. When Ruby gives me a significant eyebrow, only then do I remember my tipsy charge, still crowded to the bartop by my hovering body. Almost possessively so. 

I nearly knock both of us over jerking away, but have to leap back in as she sways alarmingly. 

"Chri... crap, I'm sorry..."

"At least it was a little jolt," Blue smiles distractedly, her voice high and tight. As cliché as the dirty, oh-so male thought is, I can't stop it from running through my head.

She sure doesn't look like a nun like this!

 

++ Regina ++

Oh, this is far better entertainment than I had expected from this little field trip! Clearly, the hormones and aches and pains are making me feel a bit evil this evening, but I do so love to watch my handsome hero squirm sometimes. 

"Regina, jus' the lady I've been hopin' to see," Sebastian greets me warmly as I haul myself onto a stool before him. "I have a most delicious ginger ale wit' your name all over it."

"Oh, do tell," I chuckle back and set down my purse. The hyper little man never seems to sleep and the few times I've been in here, he's good company, flirtatious and clever. "Well, then, barkeep, give me a double."

Chuckling, Sebastian whips up a tall glass of ice and the amber-colored pop, even dropping in a playful little paper umbrella and a maraschino cherry.

"It's perfect," I chuckle and he half bows, looking over when I gesture towards Emma with my dark head. "Do send over a couple of fingers of whatever it is they're having over ice to my paramour, won't you, dear? I'm in the mood to cause harmless trouble tonight."

"At your service!"

It's a hefty dose of Bushmill's, the scent of the syrupy sipping whiskey making me faintly long for something stronger than ginger ale. I don't really miss drink, but being pregnant in a bar does seem a bit like a bad punchline. 

Part of me is amused at Sebastian's easy acceptance of my wanting to cause trouble. Oh what a difference a Good Knight makes...

Ruby's squeal of a laugh makes me look over and grin as she pokes Emma in the chest as he tries to drink from the glass I had sent over. He glowers playfully at her before meeting my eye and returning my casual toast. This is how I expected the evening to go, that he would banter with his best friend, they would dance and get silly and then I would drag him home for my favorite brand of entertainment. Tomorrow the full moon begins and Ruby always gets wound up and hormonal as her changing time grows close. So far, the dancing and drink has been the next best thing to a raunchy night in the sheets, but I admit that her feral energy is wearing down my natural possessiveness over my lover. In the end, she's going to win this battle of wills, but I will be damned if I make it easy on the younger woman! I only hesitate because she is such a part of both of our day to day lives. Screwing that up with a roll in the hay would be devastating. Perhaps tonight will be the night, if she gives me a good show as incentive to give in to her wants...

But Reul Ghorm has tossed a fascinating monkey wrench into those plans, particularly when Emma and Ruby drag her over to the poorly lit little dance floor to horse around. There's always an edge of suggestiveness when Emma and Ruby get wound up, particularly when alcohol is involved, but I've never watched them with an unexpected third wheel.

Seems the head fairy gets a little handsy with some whiskey under her belt. It clearly makes Emma a little uncomfortable, though not as much as one might think. He is best friends with Ruby after all, and that spirited girl breaks down a lot of barriers. I know from personal experience. And the wolf so close to the surface provides a heady edge of danger, even knowing that she can control herself.

I have to admit that seeing one of my old adversaries so open and vulnerable with my charismatic lover has a definite appeal. And even the dark dregs of who I once was wonders how Blue is dealing with all this messy, human... stuff. By the bewildered look on her relaxed face where she is half held up by her young keepers, probably not too well.

 

++ Emma ++

Eventually I have to go hit the restroom and relieve my bladder, getting another dose of liquid courage from a grinning Sebastian on my way back. Still needing a break from the heat and the weird sexual undercurrents, I search for Regina, finding her in a deeply shadowed booth with a good view of the little dance floor. She smiles at me as I walk over, that deep, almost dark hunger rich in her gorgeous eyes. The way she returns my kiss makes me wish we weren't in such a public place. Sliding into the booth beside her, I nearly leap back out again as elegant fingertips trail over the buttons down the front of my pants.

"You do seem to like to watch," I mumble playfully against her lush mouth as her curious touch meets with no resistance and firms against the stirring erection there.

"I do," she chuckles darkly, her touch becoming more deliberate and I have a choice to make in very short order. If this continues, we'll have to finish me off before I leave this nearly dark booth or I'll have to arrest myself for indecent exposure. The setup is good, with the bad lighting excellent camouflage, and I do love when my girl gets to feeling frisky and starts bending rules to her whim. Yeah, maybe I should be a bit shocked or scandalized, but with that seductive, elegant hand teasing the buttons at my fly open, why resist?

With my body turned towards Regina in the booth, I drape my arm along the back of the bench to teasingly stroke her face and neck.

"Ah, so that's why you watch Ruby so closely," I tease, breathing hotly near her ear as her touch firms on my now straining cock. The playful handjob is a nice flashback to how we got to this point in the first place. "You are curious."

"Darling, if it weren't for our complicated pack dynamics, I have little doubt that I would have at least brought the subject up by now, if not dragged her into our bed to see exactly what that smart mouth is capable of."

Chuckling and groaning, I make a concerted effort to keep my hips still as she strokes me, not wanting to draw attention.

"One of the perks of my evil self," she breathes seductively against my cheek, her throaty voice barely carrying over the noise of the place, "is that I could watch whatever and whenever I chose. The endless mirrors were not merely for the sake of my vanity, darling. So many lustful encounters entertained me in those days; long married couples and young, virile lovers and lonely men and women with only their own touch to soothe their needs." Suddenly her voice is businesslike, a contrast to her touch. "Oh, certainly, I spied on enemies and the like as well, but the voyeuristic games were for pleasure alone."

I have no idea why this strange conversation-- such as it is-- is turning me on so much, but I am completely in her thrall.

"Now, do you know what I would really like?"

Some part of my brain has some good guesses, but I am loving the seductive purr of her voice in addition to the practiced touch on my body.

"No, tell me, please," I breathe behind her ear, enjoy the sensual shiver that charges her body. There are real benefits to letting this side of her come out to play. It's like evil without teeth!

"Since you and Ruby are so clearly wound up tonight, how about a proper show with poor, poor Blue? Just think how interesting our evening could truly get..."

 

++ Blue ++

His body language is strange, but some part of me feels that I should know it. Clearly a little wobbly-kneed, Emma climbs from the booth and roughly shakes himself out before unceremoniously stripping off his vest and blue shirt. Then his suspenders are yanked back up over the thin, tight tank top that honestly leaves little to the imagination. 

Ruby has kept to her word, keeping close to me as the alcohol wreaks havoc on my senses. Well, I did come here to experience more of what it is like to be human...

After finishing his drink and prodding at the juke box for a moment, Emma flounces over, yelling, "c'mon, you big, goofy mutt! It's not the full moon yet and the party is just getting interesting! Let's dance!"

"Comedian you're not, Sasquatch," Ruby sasses back and laughs as powerful arms sweep us both into his muscled chest to be whirled about.

"Hang in there, pretty lady," the lad chuckles and I can only nod against his chest. "Me and Rubes here will take good care of you. Won't we, Rubes?"

There's an emphasis on that last statement that I feel-- once again-- should make sense to me. For a moment, Ruby's body stops moving, before she presses close to my back and I am effectively trapped between them, mesmerized by the physicality of their closeness. The contrasts alone are making me drown in some new form of insanity unlike anything I have ever felt before. Emma's tall, hard-muscled body in contrast to Ruby's lanky curves, the loud pulse of music in contrast to the breathing of my companions, so close, the sweltering heat in contrast to the chilling drafts over my flesh when there is the rare breath of air between me and them. Those stimulations and the heady whiskey conspire to make my knees weak, my hands brave and forbidden parts of my anatomy to throb needfully.

It's too much, threatening my sanity, my head thrown back as they nestle their heads to my neck, breathing heavily over my flesh, their bodies moving maddeningly against mine.

"Please. Please," my voice groans gutturally. "I can't..."

"Gorgeous lady," Ruby chuckles darkly, an arousing and alarming sound against the throbbing pulse in my throat. "You aren't really a nun and what you're feeling is perfectly normal. Besides, we're all grownups here."

"But we'll stop any time you want," Emma adds and they freeze, still as statues, as though they share a mind. The note of protest in my throat is a feral, animalistic sound, as foreign to me as all the other strange impulses racing through me. In those lingering heartbeats of stillness, I find myself with my restless hips rocking against Emma's heavy thigh, one hand at his waist, the other on Ruby's hip.

"Please," my voice groans again, completely out of my conscious control. The restless burn in my groin and in the sensitive breasts pressed to Emma's chest are driving me insane. When Ruby restlessly presses her hips tightly to mine, the pressure grows almost painful before snapping loose and the rush of feeling whites out all of my senses.

 

++ Regina ++

Oh, this has been even better than I hoped! Emma has worked his companions over so that they share my darkened corner of the bar. Hell, they're practically in my lap! When the young friskies suddenly freeze still as though under a spell, I can't hear Blue's begging, but every line of her tortured body screams it.

Then Ruby shifts her hips and thrusts against Blue's rear with astonishingly accurate pressure and there is no mistaking how the inexperienced woman throws her head back, mouth open in ecstasy. Swiftly clamping one hand over Blue's mouth to stifle her cries, Ruby rolls her hips, drawing out the experience as best she can. Clearly startled and affectionately amused, Emma cuddles them both close and grins at me.

Okay, I think this party needs a new venue.

When I reach out a toe to prod Ruby in the flank, she jumps and blinks back to awareness, her eyes silvery as the nearly full moon. Peeling herself away from Blue's back, she takes the hand I hold out and helps me to my feet.

"Thank you, dear," I near-shout over the din in the now-crowded bar. "I think it's time we change the scene, yes?"

Blue starts to sag boneless at the loss of Ruby's strength and Emma quickly scoops her up like a sleepy child. Excellent! Gathering up his discarded clothing and my purse, we slip through the crowd to retrieve everybody's jackets, Emma laughing off several inquiries about his armload. Oh, the gossip circles will have a field day over this one, even with only a sliver of the truth nearly asleep in his strong arms.

Ruby tosses Emma's jacket over his shoulders and Blue's wrap haphazardly over her before shrugging into her own coat. My covering up is far quicker and I get the door, grinning when Emma cusses at the slap of icy air outside.

"Little overheated?" I can't resist teasing him, patting the muscled ass as he steps past me and heads for the Mercedes.

"Yeah, the local hotspot got hotter than usual, eh?"

He and Ruby cackle dirtily, still fairly inebriated themselves and making me chuckle at their sophomoric goofing off. At the car, Emma re-situates his armload and speaks affectionately. "Guess we better get you home. Man, you are not gonna be happy in the morning."

"Nonsense, Emma, we're taking her home with us," I tell him briskly and open the passenger door. My expression lies that I am exasperated with him, but I'm quite aware that my enjoyment of the evening so far is bright in my eyes. Or dark, as the case may be. "She shouldn't be left alone after drinking for what I'm guessing is the first time. We're being neighborly."

"Right!" Ruby chimes up cheerfully and waves to a passing couple in the parking lot. "Neighborly. Get her strapped in safely, Sheriff. You and me get the backseat tonight."

Blue is a small woman and is easy enough for Emma to get safely belted in even while limp with drink and afterglow. Emma and Ruby shake the car piling in and I get us all underway. With much giggling and carrying on from the backseat, we make quick work of returning to the big white house that is home to so many now.

 

++ Emma ++

At the threshold, Regina shushes us and me and Rubes do our best to behave as the door opens to reveal a dark, cool and thankfully empty house. Excellent. Gathering Blue's weight closer to my chest, I squint as lights click on beneath Regina and Ruby's hands. My coat is taken from me, and Regina slaps me ringingly on the ass.

"Take her upstairs, stud. We'll need to keep an eye out on her and I'm sure there is more entertainment possible for the evening."

Leaning over and being careful of my balance and my back, I gladly accept Regina's lingering kiss, delighting in the hot tingles her loving familiarity causes. For a moment, I can only watch her strut away, before shaking myself back to the present and grinning down at my bleary charge.

"Well, come on then, let's get you comfortable."

There's an odd look on Blue's face, a level of self-awareness that has burned through the haze of booze and lust. As I climb the stairs slowly, careful of my balance, she speaks quietly.

"Why are you doing this?"

"What? Taking care of you? That's part of the job description. Helping you learn some of the pleasures of being human?"

"That's all the pleasure's all us?" Ruby cackles as she trots up behind me, planting both hands on my back to help get me up the stairs.

"Jeezus, Rubes, that didn't even make any sense."

"So the hell what? You knew what the hell I mean."

Snarking back and forth, we make our way to the sprawling master bedroom where Ruby bounces over playfully and yanks all the thick, luxurious bedding onto the floor, making me laugh. It's even funnier when she bodily throws herself onto the soft surface and writhes around like a cat with an itch.

"I've wanted to do this since forever! This bed's like an amusement park!"

"Oh, Ruby, you have no idea," Regina purrs playfully from behind me, making me jump a bit in surprise. A friendly hand over my lower back makes me twist and dance away from her touch, echoing her playful smirk. "Take a load off, Sheriff, and stay awhile."

Arrogantly strutting past, Regina casually unbuttons her shirt and goes over to the bed.

"Give a girl a hand, Miss Lucas?"

"With pleasure!"

 

++ Ruby ++

I have no illusions about who is in control of this unexpected group game. Now, Regina isn't always the Toppy sort-- I know this because there's little Emma doesn't tell me-- but he also would never start a game like this. Firstly, he's so mad crazy for our former evil overlord, that his eye only wanders casually and he would never dream of cheating; unfortunately for me! Secondly, the woman still very much a part of the man, balks at some of the more cliché straight guy stuff. It's endlessly amusing to watch the ongoing, sporadic gender confusion. 

Scooting over to the edge of the bed, I tug at the zipper running down Regina's spine and admire her richly hued skin. Impulsively, I press a wet kiss and a flash of tongue to the base of her spine, enjoying the grin she flashes me over her shoulder.

"Flirt."

"Yes ma'am."

The bed shakes and I turn to see Emma kneeling to set down his load before moving to pull off Blue's utilitarian shoes. Shrugging, he presses curious fingers into her soles and earns an almost pitiful moan, pale brown eyes rolling back in her head. It makes me share an evil grin with my handsome pal at the reaction, and then we both look to Regina.

For a moment, she doesn't react, making us both squirm. So much fun could be had here in this luxurious bed, but not at the expense of any of the parties involved. Then a truly wicked grin, the sort that would have once made me cringe in terror, dawns over the beautiful, dramatic face. With a strut in her step that is pure sex, Regina goes to Emma, and he leans down to kiss away that smile. As long as I've been around these two, I never get tired of watching them kiss. It's the best mix of hot and sweet, not unlike Snow and David, only raunchier. 

To my amusement, Emma is still rubbing distractedly at Blue's foot and it's clearly revving the woman back up again. Well then! I want in on this next round of play for sure, so I squirm over to Blue's prone body and rest a hand on her belly.

"I wanted to try this at the bar," I tell her quietly, moving in close enough that our lips just brush together. "May I kiss you? See, if we're good, the boss lady might let us stay and play some more."

Regina scoffs and then giggles while Blue's bleary brown eyes watch mine for a moment before she closes them and nods faintly. Her mouth tastes clean and whiskey-laden and so very human. The flat belly beneath my hand is surprisingly muscular, twitching in response to the kisses and touches.

"Is this what you had in mind for the evening, Frisky?"

Emma's teasing question makes Regina chuckle throatily, making both Blue and me shiver in reaction and we've never even been her lovers!

"Not at all, darling. This turned out even better. Now, I require my pajamas and perhaps a nice, crackling fire. Since Ruby stole all of the blankets."

"Didn't steal them," I chuckle and look up at her. "Just moved 'em. I'll fix it before anyone sleeps. Promise!"

 

++ Regina ++

As always, Ruby has playfully charmed me. So I step over and lean down to taste that wide, expressive mouth for myself.

It only takes a moment to discover that Ruby Lucas is a devastatingly talented kisser. Seems I was right about this woman's smart mouth after all. Returning the playful and quicksilver swipe of tongue, I stand and stroke her lower lip with my thumb.

"Hold that thought, won't you dear?"

Utterly uncaring of my unusual audience, I strip off shirt and dress and bra before slipping into my favorite silk pajamas and tossing a match into the carefully prepped wood and tinder that was readied this morning.

"You girls are on my side, so scoot over."

With chuckles from the best friends, everyone is in motion. Emma leaves off Blue's feet and moves around so that he can roll her small frame to her side and swat her playfully on the rear, making her squeak. Ruby laughs and draws her close, giving me enough space to prop up a few pillows and make myself comfortable slouching against the headboard. Despite my enjoyment of the evening, I can't help the soft groan of relief at getting off my feet.

Instantly, Emma has insinuated his bulk up between my thighs to arch over the baby's small bump and nuzzle me lovingly.

"Tired?"

"Only a bit, darling."

"Ready to admit that you're going to have to give up your dominatrix shoes yet?"

The tease is a running gag between us and I grin into his beautiful eyes.

"Never."

For the moment, we are the only two people in all of reality as I trace his familiar features and bask in his clear adoration. Scratching at his neatly trimmed beard deepens his smile and a tug at his shaggy gold hair coaxes him close for adoring kisses. It's so very easy to completely forget our audience, nothing but the loving and sensual energy between us.

Only a harsh, guttural moan from Reul Ghorm interrupts, the embrace more promise than tease. Even as I look over to glare at the interruption, the overhead light and the fire both stop flickering as our magics die down.

"Wow," Ruby breathes in wonder. "That is cool! How the hell do you guys not trash this room all the time?"

The magics have died back down again and I chuckle, feeling Blue squirm against my side.

"Someone," a kiss on the nose makes Emma grin sheepishly. "Usually keeps us damped down. A few too many distractions tonight, dearest?"

 

++ Emma ++

"You know how I love to show off," I tease, once again returning to Regina's irresistible mouth, before I remember how susceptible poor Blue is to my wild magic. Twisting around, I reach out to hug her close, Regina's right leg trapped between us. Sure enough, the woman's expression is a riot of conflicting emotions. "Ah, shit, I'm sorry, Blue. Let me help."

For the moment, the unexpected intimacy of the evening is forgotten as I place my hand on Blue's pixie face with the intent of easing the magics that Regina and I accidentally blasted her with. Again.

"Just kiss her, you idiot," Regina laughs and I jerk in instinctive response to her teasing toes trailing over the small of my back. Stroking Blue's jaw, I watch her watch me, the pale brown eyes wide. Like Ruby earlier, I pause, my mouth barely brushing hers.

"Who am I to argue? May I kiss you?"

"Yes," Blue breathes and there is nothing shy about her needy mouth, open and wet against mine. She feels utterly different from Regina, the shape of her mouth and the planes of her face, even her taste mixing with mine. "Oh," she whispers as her petite fingers stroke over my cheek to my chin to my lower lip. "You feel so..."

"I know," Regina chuckles lowly, her voice like warm syrup that tickles down the spine. My shiver of awareness to that sensual tone echoes in Blue's small frame and Ruby adds her giggle to the morass of hormones choking the room. When I look up at Ruby, she smiles, a luminous, sweet expression that makes me pause.

"Y'know, if I'd had a shot at this months ago," she muses and pats my cheek almost maternally. "I would have jumped you in a heartbeat. Hell, I'd've left you walking crooked, stud. But now? I think Regina's right; it would be weird. So, I'm gonna stick around for the girls and you're on your own, Sasquatch."

Blinking back the unexpected prick of tears at her sweetness, I lean over Blue to smooch Ruby adoringly on the forehead.

"Fuck, but you are the best friend I've ever wanted. Love ya, Rubes."

"Love you too, Em. Now get your ass to the other side of this big bed while I go kiss up to your woman."

With long arms, I grip her as tight as I can to the bulk of Regina's still trapped leg and Blue's body before we're scrambling to our feet. I hug her for real as I trot off to the bathroom to use the facilities and strip down to my usual thong before climbing into a pair of silk boxers I only use to seduce. Then I can lounge in the doorway from the closet for a moment to observe the festivities and let my own arousal simmer higher.

Regina chuckles as Ruby slinks over her, almost vampishly and I know my mate has entertainment for now. So, I can kneel down by Blue's feet and run and hand and face over her legs, hoping to stimulate even through the warm tights. While Regina and Ruby murmur and giggle together, Blue groans and reflexively starts to struggle with her heavy skirt.


	27. Swingerbrooke Games

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let the games continue!

++ Regina ++

"You really passed up the opportunity," I marvel, petting Ruby's sleek locks and she smiles with only a hint of melancholy. 

"I have. I love you guys and this baby and the big, weird, chaotic pack we all make in this house. That's far more important to me than a roll in the hay. Even with that sexy beast."

There's no missing the emphasis and we both look over to watch Emma slink over Blue's small, vulnerable body. In a sudden flurry of activity, clothes are finally getting shed in earnest, Ruby's sleek top and Blue's demure white blouse, the heavy woolen skirt, the outrageous fetish boots.

I can't find any jealousy in my heart when Blue whimpers, every muscle tense and her fingers punishing in the gold hair as Emma mouths at her flat stomach. Watching him do that is every bit as arousing as I had ever hoped.

"He's gotten very good at this," I murmur at the woman caught up in the sensual spell we've all woven. "Just let it happen."

A small hand reaches up to grab at my hair as I breathe into the reddish-brunette locks. Ruby gets a hand squirmed in and pops Blue's oh-so-serious bra loose and the inexperienced woman squeaks again as that talented mouth pays attention to her aching breasts.

She's not going to last long, that's for certain.

It's a raucous, high-pitched noisy climax that makes me wince at the noise so close to my ears. Writhing and crying, Blue yanks at my hair, at Emma's gold mane where he's busy between her thighs, hanging on like a limpet. 

"Nice," Ruby compliments, patting his hair, but Emma doesn't let up, growling around his noisy suckling. I almost feel bad for Blue as she whines and cries, hips canted up, skin damp with sweat and her hand fisted into the gold hair. The tendons in her neck and every muscle stand out with the writhing effort of her petite frame. She looks like she's in pain, but stopping her now would be cruel I suppose and I'm not supposed to be that woman anymore.

The climax is actually visible, a fascinating spectacle, as muscles ripple under her skin like a pebble in a pond and she bursts into tears.

"Emma," I call to my lover, who seems a bit dazed and more than a bit distracted. "Emma!"

Now, I love the man, and I try to be an equal partner and not use that particular 'evil queen' tone on him, but sometimes it's a useful tool. Blinking, he stares at me, pupils constricted to pin pricks.

"Let the woman recover, Darling."

Emma leaps back like he's been burned, collapsing into a heap. He's flushed an adorable pink, beard matted to his face from his new friend and covered with at thin sheen of sweat. While I can't see him from the waist down because of my laying on the bed, I'm also quite sure that he's fully hard and needy too. Cradling Blue's deadweight to my shoulder to let her shiver back to herself, I eye Ruby speculatively.

"Ruby, darling, I know you swore to not get too involved, but might you find a way to give him some relief?"

 

++ Emma ++

Over this pregnancy, I have gone through some sexual dry spells that have left this big body aching from the groin out. Which generally, I don't mind, because my own hand is as good as anything for raw relief. But sex really is more fun with a friend.

"There are other games than the obvious, no?"

With effort, I shake off my daze and focus on my mate's voice. Even from halfway across the room, and even as disoriented as I am from this strange night, the connection with her calms me. Nodding, I place my trust in Regina once again and she nods decisively. Patting the bed beside her, she smiles with feline tease and an almost maternal care.

"Darling, come up here."

Shakily, I do as I'm told, feeling weird about climbing back into our crowded bed. Sucking Blue off had been fun, but I'm hyper aware that the woman has to be a virgin in all senses of the word. She's also not completely sober, which has all sorts of red flags in my head waving around. Bad enough to swallow at the thick taste of her in my mouth... though she did say yes.

"Emma, my darling, relax," Regina purrs sweetly, drawing me to her as she always does and she pets my face. "Do you remember the first time you tried oral sex on me?"

Embarrassed, I nod, feeling the heat on my pale skin. "Yeah. But the second time was better."

"The second time was wonderful, and you've only gotten better since. However, I've never felt as though I have equaled the performance."

Automatically, I open my mouth to protest, because that's what smart guys who are in love do, but she stops me with gentle fingertips on my lips.

"The act doesn't suit me and we both know it. There's something a bit to... submissive about it." Shrugging calmly, Regina grins, and I automatically echo the expression. "Besides, it's too raw and messy for my sensibilities."

I can't argue with that, but I hold my tongue.

"That said, I do feel badly that you haven't had the opportunity to experience a halfway decent blow-job, must less a talented one."

There's something hot as hell about hearing my Regina saying something as raw as 'blow job'.

"Your best friend is a bit of a braggart. Care to put your money where your mouth is, Ruby?"

Oh... oh god. That's where she's been going with this whole monologue! Screwing my eyes closed, memories flash through my mind. All those nights of drinking before this disconcerting change, raunchy stories traded to squick Mary-Margaret and shock Ashley that suddenly have whole new dimensions in my mind.

My jerky nod is half curiosity and half desperation.

 

++ Ruby ++

It's fascinating and hot as hell to see Emma's eyes drift shut, his entire body a clear tell of where his mind has gone. I know, because I remember too.

"Your call, sweetie," Regina says quietly, her tone gentle, her stroking hand on my hair equally so.

Now, I could procrastinate and continue to feel weird, but when might I get this opportunity again? Besides, after what's already happened tonight, a refusal seems more than a little ridiculous.

Yeah, this is a compromise that I'm pretty sure that I can live with.

There's already quite a bulge in Emma's shorts, certainly more than I'm used to seeing as I slither down the bed and shift my lanky bulk over Blue.

"Emma, my darling, come closer. Perfect."

The hard, defined muscles of his bare belly shift enticingly and he makes a supplicating sound that ratchets up in volume and pitch when I trail my tongue over the straining abdominals. Oh god, he's every bit as responsive as I could hope, his whole body twitching from the small caress. Eager now, I gently push at his hip to flatten that muscular ass to the bed while pulling at the silk shorts.

"Sorry," I apologize quietly in a harsh tone as I realize he's got something on underneath and I just gave that hard shaft an uncomfortable jerk. Tugging the silk shorts away reveals the offending bikini briefs in flaming red with black elastic. I like them, they're as fun as I'd expect from my pal, but right now, my goal is that hard cock spilling out of the front pouch. He's a nice length and just a bit girthy, with a perfect, elegant curve towards his powerful belly.

No wonder Regina has been so happy!

A few prods gets him to raise his hips and I can quickly strip him fully naked before running the flat of my tongue over the heavy vein on the underside of his cock. Yes, I've done this a few times, but the knowledge came built in with my hussy Ruby persona and I haven't done it nearly as many times as mine and other's memories would suggest.

Paying homage to the swollen tip, I begin to lavish real attention on him, rubbing my thumbs against the heavy scrotum gently while my fingers keep him positioned.

"Beautiful," Regina breathes out softy, giving me an ego boost and Blue's body, close up until now, is nearly pressed to Emma's side and she makes a soft, vulnerable sound. A glance reveals that Regina has pressed into Blue from behind so that she can get closer to her mate. "Ah, ah, no hands, mister."

Whining at the playful demand from Regina, I feel Emma's hand leave from its faint touch over my dark hair. Rather than get my throat battered, which is no fun, I try out how he likes the heat of my mouth to the root and long seconds of rhythmic suckling before I need air again.

Excellent!

He writhes deliciously, the heavy legs falling open around me, moving restlessly, torso flexing, hips pressing up and falling jerkily. Luckily, I'm on top and there's not much he can do to control this.

 

++ Regina ++

With only a gentle touch, I keep Emma's right arm curled above his head, the left trapped by my own body.

"I love you open and vulnerable like this," I murmur, watching his face and sneaking peeks down to Ruby's performance. His powerful body is whip-cord tense, back bowed, hips twitching as his skin begins flushing the pink I know well. Embarrassed or aroused, the color is a glorious tell I relish for its honesty. That sexy flush of color is a barometer of the strength of his reaction. And he's getting pretty flushed right now!

Crushed between my body and Emma's, Blue snakes out a tentative hand to stroke over his rock-hard belly, skimming over the faint strip of fine blonde hairs leading down to Ruby's making love over his groin.

Grunting and whining, it hits him suddenly, his whole body quivering as Ruby stays with him and I marvel at watching his release for the first time as merely an observer. He's stunningly beautiful, as always, but this is an intimacy I hadn't expected to be so... moving.

"I love you," I hear myself whisper, completely captivated as the beloved green eyes blink open to regard me quietly. When he does finally draw me into a long, slow kiss, I honestly can't decide if I want him to hold me sweetly forever or screw me silly.

I've nearly forgotten the small body sandwiched between us when Emma lets me up for air, his expression adoring.

"I love you too. Switch sides tonight? I'd really like to cuddle you."

"Oh, you know I can't tell you no, Darling."

With a last kiss, I stand from the bed and stretch, startling as Ruby exits the bathroom with a grin. When had she slipped away? The world does fade away when Emma pulls out the soul kisses!

"You get my spot tonight, Ruby."

"Sweet. The lad feeling cuddly?"

She is impossibly sweet and I reach up to pull her down into a quick, warm kiss.

"Thank you again, for everything."

Pleasantly flustered, Ruby squirms and preens, making me and Emma both chuckle.

"I see you've stolen one of my shirts," he teases his best friend affectionately. "Can you grab one for sleepy here?"

"You okay with being the only naked one?"

"Too damn wiped out to get the hell up, frankly. Y'know nevermind, I think we've already lost our elder. Just come to bed, Rubes."

 

++ Emma ++

Now quite officially exhausted, I'm not sure I could get up to pull some pants on and will just have to wing it au-naturalle. It's sweet and sexy to watch the two brunettes kiss for a moment, before Ruby sends Regina off with a playful swat to that magnificent ass. The woman is actually, impossibly hotter now, with the pregnancy weight swelling her already luscious body. I'm sure she won't agree with me, especially in a few months, but I love it.

Even as Regina begins to situate herself along my right side, Ruby crouches at the foot of the bed, but comes up with my discarded shorts and briefs instead of the bedding. Waving them off of her fingertips, she grins evilly and I roll my eyes in anticipation of the teasing I just know is coming.

"Do you always wear these fun briefs?"

"Yes, why?"

"Well, they're sexy, I just wasn't expecting to find them under the shorts."

"The shorts were for effect, dork."

"Not a boxers kinda guy, huh?"

"Hell no. Look, imagine waking up to find this set of frickin' sports equipment dangling between your legs. The dick is bad enough, but the nuts are a hundred times worse. Keeping them as close as possible while still letting them breathe lessens the constant psychological drain and physical danger."

I hadn't meant to sound short, but before I can apologize, Regina wraps herself around me possessively, nuzzling my ear.

"And they're sexy."

"Thank you Gina. Sorry Ruby, didn't mean to get snappy."

With quick efficiency, the werewolf has flicked the warm bedding over the whole lot of us before snuggling into Blue's back.

"Yeah, okay, I think I get your point," she muses and suddenly grins wildly. "And they made you look even hotter in the quick glance I got of them."

"And in lots of fun colors," Regina chuckles and I squeeze them all closer in our big, warm pile of mismatched humanity.

"But no pink," I mourn again one of the few things I miss from my old body's wardrobe. "Hey, don't look at me like that. I miss the pink!"

"You'd probably look hot in that color. Did you used to wear pink thongs? That's sexy."

"Ruby, you never would have given me a shot when I was a girl."

"You don't know that. I never had a chance. And then you came back looking like this and ended up with dark and scary over there..."

Regina chuckles sleepily as she grows warmer and heavier against me. Quickly levering my left arm over Blue's heavy head, I pull Ruby's dark skull close and kiss her warmly.

"Thank you, Ruby."

 

++ Blue ++

(2-24-13)

Muzzily, I feel wakefulness creep over me, once again prompted by the other bodies in the bed shifting about. In truth I have never had a better... or worse night's sleep. This time though, the cadence of their voices are different, an edge of wakefulness not present before. That, and there is sunlight pressing against my aching eyes.

Dizzy, leaden and nauseous, I can't find the energy to move, despite the cramping urgency of my aching bladder. Emma and Regina's voices murmur nearby, the words incomprehensible, but the bond between them so very clear. How terrible I feel about what has happened to Regina over her life. No child, no matter what her destiny, should go through what she has. 

"Hey you," Emma whispers closely and I dare to peel open one eye, cringing at the brightness of the light. "Bet your bladder's screamin'. C'mon, up-see-daisy."

Whining pitifully, I can't fight the big, gentle hands that bossily coax me to shaky legs and march me off to the toilet, where I am left to my own devices. Groaning with visceral relief from the pressure, the renewed murmur of the loving couple's voices takes a bit to register and I can only burn with embarrassment as my senses start to clear. Finally blinking my eyes open fully, I see that the bathtub is close by, Regina sprawled out in the water with Emma seated beside the tub on a stool.

Neither of them is paying me any attention at all, leaving me to my embarrassment, my nakedness and my awakening memories. Shakily standing and flushing the toilet, I can't stop the squeal of shock as Emma suddenly sweeps me up into his powerful arms and deposits me in the lukewarm water, effectively in Regina's lap.

"Back in a few, ladies," he smiles and kisses both our foreheads before striding out. I don't fight Regina's gentle hand on my forehead, pressing my aching head to her shoulder, the water relaxing my stressed body.

"Coffee and water will be here in a few minutes, just relax."

"I don't deserve your kindness," I whisper, eyes swamped with tears and Regina shrugs.

"Perhaps. But I'm done with keeping score. The past cannot be changed."

Something inside of me unlocks, a knot of tension so old I have ceased being aware of it. Eyes awash in tears, I press my nose to Regina's throat and just try to remember how to breathe.

Again, Emma's presence wakes me with a start, a gentle hand on my forehead keeping me from getting anywhere.

"Drink up," he instructs quietly as Regina allows me to raise my head slowly and accept a bottle of water. "Rehydrate, get some caffeine in your system and we'll get you up and moving to burn off the last of the hangover."

"Okay," I murmur placidly and obey even as I watch the lovely couple kiss leisurely only inches from my eyes. It is intoxicating, the visceral proof of the happily ever afters I once handed out with no real appreciation for them. 

 

++ Regina ++

The heavy feel of Reul's fascinated gaze on us in no way detracts from my enjoyment of my lover's lingering kisses. She shifts away just a bit as Emma's arm swishes through the water to caress over the swell of our child. 

"How are you both doing today, hmm?"

The baby talk makes me roll my eyes, but there's also something adorably sweet about it. Really, I'm so impossibly whipped. Chuckling quietly, I relish that big hand on my belly and Emma's slow, adoring kisses. 

"We apparently like an audience," I murmur and both of us laugh quietly as Blue groans and we realize we've been whipping up the magics yet again. She squirms and makes a girlish noise as I indulge my curiosity by running my hands over her curves. "You know, Lovely, there are still many wonderful things this body is capable of feeling. Last night, you were intoxicated and no one wanted to take too much advantage of you and cross a line. But that's no longer a problem, is it? Stone cold sober, you can make an informed decision to say yes or no."

The dark tease in my voice is at least as effective as my wandering hands over her skin and I know that Evil Queen part of me enjoys having this former enemy at my mercy.

Emma stays quiet, snaking out a long arm to grab my hairbrush, quirking a grin when I tease him.

"Your coordination has gotten so much better, Love."

With coaxing, bossy hands, he gets Blue to turn sideways, her compact frame scrunched up a bit atop my thighs, and starts carefully loosening her wrecked, elaborate hair. "This should be an excellent test of my much better coordination then, eh?"

"What are you doing?"

Teasing thick fingers through the waves of reddish-brown hair, Emma hums soothingly. "If there's one thing I know, it's hair like this. Just curly enough to get tangled as hell and long enough to be a pain in the butt. Relax and let me know if I yank by accident."

Enjoying the new show, I slide an arm beneath Reul's neck so that she can relax. We settle into a strangely comfortable quiet, but I suppose I shouldn't be surprised. After last night...

The tuneless hum surprises me, an unconscious sound from Emma, clearly concentrating on his task, a faint smile on his intent face. It surprises me far more to hear Reul echo the sound, putting a tune to the sound, something just at the edge of familiar... Some sort of lullaby?

Soon the tangled waves are a shimmering waterfall and Emma sits back to eye his handiwork with an almost prissy satisfaction. The flashes of the female he once was are always interesting and often entertaining. "Excellent. Feel better?"

The pale brown eyes are glassy and unfocused and I refrain from laughing, but not by much. It doesn't look as though persuading our new playmate to stick around for more fun and games will be difficult! My lover's handsome face warms into a hotly enticing grin and he half stands by a strong grip on the edge of the tub to lean over and kiss me deeply, with sexy intent and this time it is my turn to make a sound of wordless pleasure, weaving fingers into his tousled gold hair. Before we get too involved, he makes a strangled moaning sound, his lips suddenly motionless against mine.

"Emma?"

 

++ Emma ++

I'm fiercely embarrassed and equally tuned out at being so turned on, not by my mate's lush mouth, but the unexpected thrill of all that long hair pooling and tickling over my belly and thighs. Clearing my throat, I sit back on the stool, my face aflame. When I raise my eyes from the locks of silky hair against my skin, my expression clearly gives me away, because Regina bursts into raucous peals of laughter.

"Oh, I do love your expressiveness, Darling!"

Anything else that might be said evaporates with a knock at the bedroom door.

After a shocked moment, I'm on my feet to answer the knock, carefully closing the bathroom behind me. As expected, it's Henry there, grinning a good morning. "Hey Emma! You guys are in bed late today."

"Mornin', kid. Yeah, we went out last night and were up late. Give your mom a shout, because she's in the bath, k?"

"Good morning, Mom!" He yells obligingly and Regina's voice carries somewhat incoherently though the closed door. 

"Holler if you need us, Gina," I add before herding the boy out. He's rambling on in happy oblivion of what he interrupted, which thankfully cools my ardor and I can focus on a nice, normal morning. We get to the kitchen before he catches my attention.

"Were you and Mom fooling around again?"

He looks grossed out and curious as I stare at him, wondering what the hell to say to that. After all, just a week and a half ago, he caught us fucking around in the living room, so I can't really blame him.

"A little. And, not you're not allowed to makes faces, junior, not when we keep it in the privacy of the bedroom. And trust me, there will be no more incidences in front of the fireplace."

Sometimes a person's just gotta bluster their way out of an awkward situation and Henry seems to buy it.

"We're gonna have to have more of those talks aren't we?"

Both of us are embarrassed all over again, laughing it off as we start putting together a simple breakfast. In time, Henry's grin at the doorway makes me look over and echo the expression as Regina joins us. "Good morning, Darlings. Did you have fun last night, Henry? Emma, dear, could you add a bit for an extra mouth?"

Sure enough, Blue is hovering somewhat uncomfortably behind her, looking utterly unlike herself with all that glorious hair in a simple ponytail and dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. She trades awkward greetings with Henry, who is blatantly curious as hell, staring at each of us grownups in turn.

"We were being neighborly," Regina explains simply and I swear she's enjoying this little game. Swatting her on the fanny and earning a squawk, I give her a warning glance, tempered with a grin, and chuckle at her falsely innocent look. Before we can concoct up something that will quiet Henry's far-too-smart curiosity, Blue beats us to the punch.

"I found myself in a situation that could have been dangerous to me last night." When the boy looks alarmed, she waves him down. "Nothing like that, child, I assure you. I merely went to the bar where your parents had gone to spend some time and overindulged in the foolishness of drink. Something I have never done before, and as I feel quite terrible right now, something that I am highly unlikely to do again."

 

++ Blue ++

It seems to me that sticking to the truth with this intelligent young man is the safest route. Oh, not the entire truth, that would be inappropriate, but as close as propriety can. 

"Well, I'm glad they could help out," Henry says carefully, but his thoughts are still bright in his eyes. "Y'know, I don't get why adults drink that stuff."

I think that strangled noise is Emma trying not to laugh where he's busy at the stove.

"Merely something that I have never had the opportunity to do before," I answer, feeling as though I'm repeating myself, but Henry smiles, so clearly I'm worrying over nothing. It's astonishing, really, how much his mannerisms are those of the woman that raised him.

"Emma and I were making french toast. Are you hungry?"

"Perhaps a little something."

A little something turns into a extensive meal, including lively conversation. Henry peppers me with questions and I continue to strive for honesty as best I can without overstepping any boundaries. 

"Since the curse broke, I have had very little opportunity to try out simple human interactions and indulgences. Including such wonderful food. This is delicious, Emma."

"I had a good teacher," he grins and leans over to kiss Regina's cheek, making her smile. "Between this one and Mary-Margaret, I no longer threaten to burn down kitchens. Just don't expect anything fancy from me."

There's something loaded in that comment and the speculative gleam in green eyes and I cannot stop the flush that heats my skin. "You did fine."

Regina only chuckles with a distinctly dirty edge that even I can pick up on and we all immediately behave ourselves before Henry gets too curious. In fact, Regina pointedly changes the subject.

"You look very comfortable dressed like that."

Taking the hint, I immediately follow her lead, relieved for it. "I am. Perhaps I'm ready for some more changes."

"Regina's good at that," Emma chimes in. "I found that out when I had to literally start from scratch with a wardrobe."

With a nod, our former nemesis accepts the praise and I realize that I could certainly do worse. After all, the woman is always the picture of elegance. Even if she's a bit... risqué. With a sigh, I accept that my strange evening will be turning into a strange day and that I can never go back to who I was before walking into that bar.

"Yes, I will accept that offer. If it was an actual offer."

The family's combined chuckles reassure me and my fate is sealed.


	28. Seasons Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Back to plot now, certain hard truths about the existence of Storybrooke and her denizens must be dealt with.

++ David ++

(3-13-13)

"Okay, now that you've ordered us all here for a family meeting," I tease my eldest. "What do you need?"

"Well, I've been thinking, no comments from the peanut gallery please," Emma rolls his eyes when mother and lover giggle at him. "That we need to seriously restructure the family dynamics."

The giggling stops in sync and even Henry stops his tweeny brooding to look on with frank curiosity. Reaching across the table, Emma wiggles his fingers until both Snow and I each take a hand.

"I love you guys, and I'm completely jazzed that you're as knocked up as Gina is." The reminder makes me practically get weepy with the constant excess of emotion of the reality of the coming second child. "And that there won't be any cursey dramas this time." In stereo, Snow and Regina roll their eyes and we menfolk are once again freaked out by how eerily similar they are. Not so long ago, it would have downright terrified me. "But there's something none of us have voiced about these kids coming."

We're all hanging on every word and it both bothers and amuses him.

"Look, to put it frankly, our family tree is a nightmare. If some madman were to draw it out he would need therapy. And!" The raised voice quiets the rest of us. "I don't like to dwell on it either. But, way more than our own discomfort... what will we tell the children?"

A startled, thoughtful quiet settles, everyone's expression turning inward for a long moment.

"So, I propose a harmless deception."

"Harmless deception?" Snow parrots back curiously, Regina's expression echoing her. Seriously, they freak me out.

"Yes. A restructure, if you will. Now, you two need to concentrate on those babies. So, I elect myself as your brother, David."

"Wait, what?"

Yes, I'm aware that I sound like an idiot, but I cannot fathom what he means. Sighing, Emma eyes us with a combination of loving and canny. "I can't be your kid. We don't have that sort of relationship anyway, thank god, because I like you guys way better as friends and not awkward parents. So let's make it 'official' and recast me as a sibling instead of the long lost first born, huh? It'll be good for everybody."

"Why David's brother?" Snow says faintly wounded, clearly still trying to catch up. Though, she's coherent, so she's doing better than me. Emma shrugs and smiles gently.

"Because I look more like him now than I did you once. Luck of the draw and genetics I guess. Do you hate the idea?"

Snow bites at her lip in girlish confusion for a moment. "Yes and no. It hurts, but it's really quite brilliant."

"I know. And it matches up well. The story goes that David here raised me after our folks died, so me and Henry can still call you 'mom' or 'gramma', if we want to. I'm happy to be the younger brother and it still works with next in line for the throne, blah, blah, blah. You know I don't want it, so you can make Henry the baby's godfather and they can split the duties."

"That really is brilliant," I muse and squeeze his hand before looking bemusedly at Henry. "You think you could do that, young prince?"

Startled to be pulled into the odd discussion, he squirms and looks thoughtful. "I guess it does make more sense. Things are a little weird with this family." None of the rest of us laugh at the towering understatement, but it takes some clear effort. "So I guess making things simpler can't hurt." Suddenly he sits bolt upright and stares at Snow and I with big eyes. "Wait! Do you mean it? Me being the baby's godfather?"

Snow smiles at him sweetly and reaches out her free hand for his. "Sweetie, I cannot think of a better person. Think you can be brother, uncle and role-model for two babies?"

He looks terrified and completely thrilled with the idea.

Emma suddenly pipes up, flashing Regina an evil grin. "And that will make you two sisters in law, so it's totally cool that there are times you still can't stand each other." Squawking at the hard pinch to the ribs he gets for that, he yanks his hands back and grabs his lover to be monstered in his typical fashion. After the bear hug and growling at her neck for a moment, he turns back to include the rest of us in the green gaze. "So this isn't complete insanity?"

"Were you nervous?" I have to ask.

"Wrecked with it. My brain's been chewing at that for at least a week."

"I thought you've seem distracted," Regina speaks up for the first time, teasing and affectionate, stroking his gold hair. "It's a good idea if it works for everyone."

It's diplomatic, allowing refusal if either Snow or I hate it and yet more proof how much she's changed. Though it's nearly impossible to reconcile this woman with the monster we once knew. "And there's plenty of time to get the town on the same page," I muse with a nod to... y'know, this idea has merit, because sister in law is a hell of a lot simpler than the convoluted truth.

And don't we always give up parts of ourselves for our children?

Despite some lingering misgivings, I put my hand out at the center of the table. "Come on, team, put your hands in and we'll group shake on it."

I'm strangely satisfied by our five hands intertwined over the deal.

 

++ Regina ++

(3-15-13)

He has something on his mind, I can see it. The almost puzzled, faintly nervous glances are amusing and have me too curious.

At the moment, I have no idea where he is though. Standing very still, I can hear the quiet of the house, only faint sounds of the television in the basement to be heard. Wait, hasn't he been fooling around in the garage lately? Following that instinct, I grab a sweater and move across the space between the two buildings. Sure enough, as I slip through the door, I can hear Emma grunting in time with rhythmic, dull thuds and creaks. It sounds like a very one-sided fight and as I move around the storage racks cluttered with decades of living, I see that I was essentially on the mark.

Emma is battering away at a thick, padded cylinder that sways ponderously, clearly heavy. There's still awkwardness to his body, faint echoes of the change he is still adapting to, but to any eye but my loving one, he seems just a ordinary guy working out. 

And working out he is! Sweat has darkened the flimsy material of his tank top and gleams over his deliciously chiseled muscles, now standing out even more with the effort he's been putting out.

Some flicker of movement must catch his eye, because he suddenly grins slyly and starts to turn, peeling away the damp shirt. "Well hey there, pretty lady."

"My goodness, don't you look delectable," I willingly play along, relishing the lusty kiss and trailing my hands over his torso. "I picked an excellent time to grow curious where you were. You've something on your mind, Darling."

Sighing, he nods and rests his head on my shoulder for a moment and I relish his closeness and the feel and smell of him.

"So, propriety would demand we get married, right?"

It's the last thing I would have thought to hear Emma say and I almost manage to completely choke down the chuff of dry humor. "Propriety would, yes. Is that something you want?"

The green eyes are deadly serious when he leans back to look at me. "I don't need a wedding or all the damn trappings to love you forever."

"Sweet talker," I tease lovingly and kiss him again, but briefly, because it's quite clear he has more to say.

"You bring out the best in me. But all sweet talk aside, I don't want you to ever feel pressured into propriety again."

Yes, that one still hurts, all of these decades later, but I push aside memories of Leopold and concentrate on the present. "Thank you, Emma. But?"

"But," he hedges for a moment. "For our new family structure to work, maybe playing at house for real for the kids? Forever and ever?"

No, not particularly romantic, this proposal of sorts, but certainly moreso than that lonely old man who only wanted a caretaker for his motherless daughter. Once again, he is more like my Daniel, sweet and impulsive. And this time, I have a good, healthy chance for a long life with this man.

"I'd like that, my love."

"Sweet," he breathes out and neither of us speak for some time, perfectly content to let our bodies do the talking. But there's more, Emma digging into his pocket to produce a jewelry box. "Do you like them?"

The pair of rings, one small and one large, are simple silver bands, each with a swirl on them. The large one's is enameled black, the small one a string of tiny diamonds. It takes a moment for me to see that, side by side, the swirls make a heart. "I love them. Put mine on?"

There in the dingy garage by the light of a single, naked bulb, Emma slides the ring onto my left hand and I do the same, both of us relishing the powerful zing of magics that accompany the gesture.

"So, now that we've sorta eloped, can I take you upstairs and consummate the deal?"

"Please do!"

 

++ Emma ++

(4-3-13)

"It's not fair! You guys get to have all the fun."

Concentrating on the horse dancing around beneath my awkward weight, I finally calm him before firing Mary Margaret an exasperated look. Rather than rehash the now-old argument, I carefully dismount and pat Jerry's neck before leading him over to my pouting mother. She barely relents when I lean over to press a lingering kiss between her eyes.

"I wish I could help."

Sighing explosively, she relaxes finally with a pout. "I know sweetie. I'm just frustrated."

"Understandable."

Patting her already swollen belly, I suddenly get an idea. My change in body language makes a very relaxed Regina glance over from her nearby chair, expression curious.

"Ah, ah, don't ask," I warn them both with a raised hand, earning affectionate glares. "If I can pull off what just ran through my head, you'll thank me. If I can't, you'll kick my ass for getting your hopes up."

"Language!"

It's sad that Regina doesn't even have to say it anymore. Mary Margaret beats her to the punch.

(4-7-13)

Days have now passed and I'm no closer to a solution. Not that I've had much time to do more than ask a couple buddies to help out. Seems Storybrooke is getting antsy after a long winter. Really, can't they just find someone to love up and get spring fever like normal people?

"Hey Emma!"

Turning at the sound of the shout, I'm startled to see Sean striding towards me with a quartet of magnificent snowy horses in hand. Slender, magnificent beasts prancing on dainty hooves, that are careful to not jostle my fellow royal.

"I hear you've been asking about carriage horses."

Shocked, I note that these animals are acting differently from what little I've learned about their kind. It's obvious that they are accustomed to working together and the proximity of others is normal to them. They're well behaved too, willingly sniffing at my offered fingers and not crowding me. 

"They're beautiful. Kinda girlie for you though."

"Ha, ha. Don't quit your day job, Sheriff. This isn't my gift. They're from Ashley."

Now they make more sense. These are classic princess' carriage horses, delicate and pure white of fur, with narrow, dramatic heads. Two leads are pressed into my hand.

"What the hell am I going to do with four frickin' horses, Sean? How much weight do you think I need to haul? Don't answer that, because anything either of us says will sound like a fat joke and I value my life. All I need is something for Regina and Mary Margaret to drive around."

"Then what better than a well-trained royal team of four?"

Sean's smirk makes me grin and then something occurs to me.

"Wait, what do you mean, gift?"

Grinning, Sean leads his pair past me. "That's exactly what I said. Alexandra doesn't like them and these beauties need exercise. When the curse broke, the town's horses remembered all their training and they need jobs. Now, let's go see Michael and let him know he's gonna need to modify that carriage he's building for you."

"Wait, if these are Cinderella's horses, weren't they mice or something?"

"You've been watching too much Disney, Em."

 

++ Regina ++

(4-9-13)

Even his name on the little screen of my phone makes me smile. Oh, have I got it bad...

"Hey, handsome."

"Hey yourself, gorgeous. Grab Snow, willya, and come outside. I have a present!"

"Are those hoofbeats?"

His laughter carries clearly, a sweet, lusty sound I love. "Come find out!"

The excitement in his voice is contagious and I scramble from my comfortable curl on the couch to go retrieve Snow. A sleepy 'hello' carries though the door as I knock and I stick my head in. 

"Emma just called and he's really excited about something. I swear I heard horses, so I don't know about you, but I'm dying of curiosity."

"'Kay," she yawns and rolls out of bed and joins me in the hall to stomp into boots and shrug into jackets. The street outside is quiet and we stand at the curb in confusion. "You're sure he wanted us out here?"

"Yes, he..."

With a riot of sharply ringing hooves on the street, an utterly incongruous sight rounds the corner and we gawk together. Behind an almost unrealistically gorgeous team of four white mares is the ugliest rattle trap of spare parts that I think is trying to be... a carriage. 

With high spirits and perfect manners, the mares halt at Sean's pull on the traces. Emma jumps down from the footboard and bows with great flourish. "Ladies, your carriage. I know it's ugly, but it's a rush job. Michael did most the work, so it's safe enough and if you love your present here, we'll happily construct something more long-term."

Snow wanders over to the mares to coo over them while I eye the rattle trap.

"You asked Michael to build this?"

"Yeah," Emma says, his excitement flagging at my flat tone.

"And you somehow found a well-trained team of four."

"Yeah..."

"Obviously of extraordinary stock. High-end royal stock, if my eye doesn't fail me."

He looks completely deflated now and I figure I've teased enough, grabbing the front of his jacket to tug him down to be kissed quite thoroughly.

"You really are an impossibly sweet soul, My Love."

"They're wonderful!" Snow gushes and flounces over to hug us both. "Sean! Let me drive!"

"Your wish is my command!"

 

++ Emma ++

(4-14-13)

"So, I've had an insane thought."

The suddenness of my voice earns me a pair of single-eyed curious glares, making me chuckle. Despite my quivering muscles from the hot and heavy workout, I manage to squirm around more fully onto my back to draw a very willing Regina to my left shoulder to be snuggled and nuzzled, and a limp Blue to my right. She's not much of a snuggler, but allows the intimacy, resting a knee on my thigh and tucking prim hands against my side. Considering my back is still burning from her raking nails, I think her faint standoffishness is silly, but I understand it. In the sevenish weeks since Rubes and I dragged the ex-fairy and head nun into the carnal world of lusty interludes, she's been in this bed a half dozen times. She's far more relaxed now, that's for damn sure!

Squirming from the lazy fingers trailing up and down her side, Blue murmurs hoarsely, "insane thought?"

"Lookin' for a distraction?" I tease, tickling at that spot at the base of her spine that makes Blue moan wantonly and Regina chuckle. "So, we three are the most powerful mojo left, right?"

"Right," Regina drawls, poking my ribs deliberately to tickle. "Get your head out of your crotch and explain yourself, mister."

Growling playfully, I chew at her lustrous hair and laugh at the sharp slap to my abs. "Okay, okay! So, we need to figure out how to get everyone home."

Both of them still and my smile is faint as they raise up onto an elbow to stare incredulously at me. They are so impossibly different, my scarred sweetheart and this aloof playmate who is so much more than she appears on the surface.

"Hear me out. Firstly, the weird issues with your two's magics has gone away with time. If neither of you haven't noticed it, I have. It might be me that's the bridge, and that's cool, and might even be the case, as there are no magical fireworks on these nights, and you'd think there would be, right?"

They both look sweetly embarrassed and trade a shy glance and stifled, girlish giggles before sobering. Squirming around, Regina settles with her curled body at a ninety degree angle from mine, head on my belly, with Blue settling into a similar pose, only propped up a bit on my abdomen to look over Regina's dark head. Works for me, as I can watch their differently shaded brown eyes and stroke their silky skin. Really, I've nearly forgotten what I once saw in men...

Back to business then, despite the lovely distractions!

"So, if we can figure it out, we should try to take everyone back to the Enchanted Forest. With Rumpie's damn curse broken, it's only a matter of time before the real world shows up on our doorstep, and no good can come of that."

Both nod and their expressions go shadowed for a long moment. I'm sure it's reflected on my own mug. Blue's hand cupping my cheek is a small surprise-- again, not the touchy-feely sort-- and I give her my attention. "But, Emma, you are of this world, despite your origins."

"I was," I partially agree, stroking Regina's pensive face as memories clearly parade across her mind's eye. "But I'm as separate from this world now as all of you. Remember, I no longer exist, really. This change is impossible in a world with no magic."

Both look startled yet again to be reminded of the change done to me. After so many months, even I sometimes have trouble remembering who I was before Storybrooke and the Enchanted Forest and the Giant's Castle. 

 

++ Blue ++

These nights with this fascinating couple soothes not just the restless needs of this all too human body, but gives me companionship among equals. They don't look to me as a mythical figure with answers, but as exactly what I am now, flaws and all. Regina with her prickly, sometimes almost disdainful acceptance is grounding and Emma with his easy-going friendship and completely unique outlook on life gives me hope and makes me think. And, I would swear that there is a... charge, for lack of a better word, of magic building up quietly in me, as though I am absorbing it from both of them. It's slow, and mercifully quiescent, unlike my early experiences with Emma's magic, but I swear that it's real. And Regina used the magic from the stolen fairy dust in a moment of dire consequence, so clearly, there may indeed be something to this.

"Still in there?" Emma questions sweetly, giving my chin a little pinch and smiling. Despite myself, I return the quirky grin.

"Giving the matter some thought. Yes, it's insane, but you've no rules, child of True Love, so I'm game for a go."

Both are startled at my easy-going attitude and Regina bursts into laughter. "No rules indeed. Well put, Reul. Well put."

Some might hear confrontation, even a condescending note in her tone, but I've long since given up taking it personally. Sometimes, shades of her formerly evil self flare up, but as Emma has pointed out, there is no tooth to them any longer. So I merely relax into the bodies that bring me such pleasure and nose into Regina's dark hair to think a bit more. "I think I have been absorbing small amounts of magic from you. It feels both familiar and foreign. If I can find a way to bridge the gap, we fairies can pull more weight, so to speak. And there may be some help amid Rumpelstiltskin's remaining things."

"We never did go through those," Regina muses, tilting her head a bit so that my affectionate nuzzling is closer to her sensitive ear. Despite the protests of the alternate personality the curse gave me, I enjoy her as well, and have refused to listen to a voice that is not mine. She is every bit as interesting and enticing as her man, for the contrast alone, I have never refused to touch her and accept any attentions in return.

"No. You were concerned for the child."

"I still am." The comment is humorous only in the way her voice goes low and breathy at the gentle stimulation offered by both myself and Emma. Always a spirited and emotional personality, she is a very honest lover, not coy or deceitful as I know I can be. I cannot help the inner conflict that inhibits me too often! They always thaw me out eventually, and my body is certainly willing enough...

"Thinking too hard again," Regina complains and I realize that I have stopped in my ministrations. Emma only chuckles and continues to teasingly pet us both, seemingly content as audience. Shaking the more serious thoughts away to simmer quietly, I willingly lavish attention to Regina's neck and ear, while watching Emma's hand stroking over her torso.

"We'll have to try some experimenting."

My lovers both chuckle dirtily and I can't stop the smile, even as my cheeks heat.

"But later."

 

++ Henry ++

(4-16-13)

"So, what's eating you guys?"

Emma pauses where he's setting dishes down for dinner and trades a serious look with Mom. The kind where close grownups can have a whole conversation without saying a word. Dunno how they do that. Seems to me good proof that they are really good together. Living with both of them sure has been mostly awesome and has let me get to know them better. 

"Well, there is something we need to talk to you about," Emma says and grabs the last dish and joins us at the table. "I had a crazy idea a few days ago and we need your opinion on it."

Again, he pauses and trades that look with Mom. She shakes her head and looks kinda worried and thoughtful, like memories are bothering her. It's a side of her I never used to see, before the book ended up in my hands. All the emotions that show now fascinate me and I spend a lot of time now just watching her face. Though I try not to stare and make her uncomfortable.

Emma clearing his throat catches my attention and I look back over at him. "So, I want to see if we can get everyone in town back to the Enchanted Forest."

I'm torn between excitement and confusion. "But you hated it there."

"Well, sure I did. Because I needed to get home to you. But, see, the thing is, we can't stay here. See, even I no longer legally exist, since I'm a guy now, so I can't leave Storybrooke any more than anyone else. And with magic back, at some point we're going to attract the wrong sort of attention. The outside world will not be kind to us."

Some of those things have gone through my head, but hearing Emma say it so bluntly makes me think hard. Leave Storybrooke? Like forever? Suddenly, I don't feel so hungry anymore. A big hand on mine makes me look up from my plate.

"Normally, you would be boiling over with questions about now, son."

He's right and I struggle to put my racing thoughts into words. "Is that why the Blue Fairy has been over a lot?"

Startled, Emma oddly flushes a bit and nods. "Partly. I made friends with her too, so some of her being here is just hanging out, but yes, I asked her about this idea. Her and your mom."

Suddenly, I get what's making them nervous and look over at my very quiet mother. "You'd have to use magic again."

It takes her a long moment to nod. "Yes. And I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea, not the least of which is because I made a promise to you."

Emma wants to say something, I can almost feel it, but he stays quiet and I'm grateful. I don't want to be pressured about this. Making Mom promise to not use her magic was a good idea, it still is. But now that I'm thinking about it, Emma's right. This is a world with no magic and Storybrooke doesn't belong here. The well known stories of the people that live here need to become only that again, just stories.

"When you got upset when you cut your hand trying to heal the apple tree? I was really grateful, because I could tell that you were serious about not using magic. And I know there's been a couple of slips, because you always look guilty and stuff for days afterward. Like I feel when I lie to you about something important. I try not to do that now."

 

++ Regina ++

Part of me is amused about his choice of words, but I'm far more warmed by his sweet honesty. There were some very real periods of time still raw on my soul when I never thought I would ever be privy to parenting moments like this again.

"Thank you, Henry. And, yes, there have been a few slips, but being good for you, and Emma now too, is worth it. I will say that it feels different now, cleaner somehow, which can only be a good thing. I'm quite sure that is Emma's doing. Blue has told us that she feels that she has somehow absorbed small amounts of magic from us, just by being in proximity to us."

That bright young mind sorts through all that and we all eat quietly for a few minutes. I admire Emma's restraint in just keeping his mouth shut and letting Henry think.

"How would you do it?"

That catches Emma off guard and I smirk at his deer in the headlights expression.

"Umm... I have no idea, actually. That's one of the reasons I need your Mom's and Blue's help. I'm more like a magic battery anyway."

Part of me rankles at the oversimplification, but I ignore it.

"I'll miss Storybrooke an awful lot. It's too bad we can't take it with us."

Stunned by Henry's throwaway comment, I trade a wide-eyed look with Emma.

"Actually, Henry," Emma says quietly, his voice awed. "That's an amazing idea. What if we could just swap the whole bubble with the same amount of space in the Forest? The place is empty except for the stupid ogres anyway."

It's insane and I'm quite certain my expression screams that. But... since when does Emma's magic have rules I understand?

"That would be a huge effort," I muse. "At least as much as the original curse..."

Suddenly assaulted by the horrific memory of killing my father to power that damned curse I'd been born and bred for, my throat closes up from the pain and tears flood my eyes. When they both come to me with hugs, I cling back and swallow back the agony once again.

"Bad memories," I try to explain and take a deep breath before cupping Henry's cheek in my palm. "I would like to try this if you will allow me. There is so much I can never atone for of my past deeds, but perhaps I can do this. And Emma will keep me from falling into darkness again. Both of you will."

It's more responsibility than an eleven year old boy should bear, but I know without a doubt that Henry can handle anything. Slowly, he nods and his jaw firms, even as his beautiful eyes remain conflicted. "Okay. We have to try. But you have to be really careful, okay? I don't want to lose anybody."

Wallowing in his hard hug, I sniffle into his shirt and nod. "With you two as anchor, I'll be okay. You'll make sure of that. I love you both so much."

"We love you too."


	29. New Journeys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bringing the community into the 'let's go home' plans causes chaos, but they get some unexpected help from a distant faction.
> 
> And the author gets to contradict canon again. Yee haw!

++ Snow ++

(4-24-13)

"Do you know what this is about?"

With a welcoming, loving grin, David turns to me and offers a hug I willingly fall into.

"No," Henry chimes up from where he'd been standing on David's other side. "But they've been doing something weird and mysterious for a week and a half. Blue's been around off and on a lot, since I finished painting the nursery."

Right on cue, the milling crowd reveals Emma standing over a relaxed Regina in a portable chair with Blue beside them. And, astonishingly, that lunatic, Jefferson. Remembering how he had knocked me out and terrorized us both brings up a fiery burst of anger and fear, his smirking face not at all helping. As though reacting to my thoughts, Emma lashes out to grab him by his shirt and nearly yank the smaller man off his feet.

"Look! You both fu... screwed up, okay? And don't think I'm not fighting back my own reasons for pummeling you after what you did to Mary-Margaret and me both, Jefferson," Emma growls, the crowd backing away as the Mad Hatter has the good grace to look away. Then Emma's gaze flickers up to where Paige... Grace stares in confusion and a bit of fear at the angry sheriff. With visible effort, he lets Jefferson's shirt go, smoothing the twisted material. Speaking calmly now, though the strain in his voice is obvious, Emma crosses his arms and continues. "We can stand here and point fingers until the real world comes crashing in and trust me that none of us will survive that well. Or we can shut the hell up and move forward and try do something about being stuck here."

"I can't do anything!"

"You have experience. That's more than an accidental trip to Fairy Tale land and back again. Now man up and do it for your kid if nothing else."

For the first time, Jefferson looks more angry than irritated, but a glance over at his wide-eyed daughter and he deflates with a nod. "I'll do what I can."

"Good."

Dismissing him, Emma turns away, soothed by Regina leaning against his hip and, oddly, Blue putting a gentle hand on his arm. Well, they have spent an awful lot of time together doing whatever mysterious business they've been at for months now. 

"Everyone," Blue suddenly calls out and the crowd begins to settle. "I called for this meeting for an important reason. Sheriff Swan has rightly pointed out that the world around us will inevitably start to press in now and that we do not belong here. We will never belong here, we cannot belong here. By our very nature, we are a danger to this world as much as it is a danger to us. So, myself and Emma and, yes, Regina, have been working on combining magics," a ripple of surprise moves through the crowd and Emma puts a loving, protective hand on Regina's dark head, "with the intent of trying to return us home."

The burst of shocked and excited sound drowns out anything else she might have tried to say.

 

++ Blue ++

"I hadn't expected it to devolve this badly," I muse quietly where I've retreated into the shadows.

"Comes with a group consensus," Regina mocks with an edge of her old irritability. Not that I blame her in this chaos. "I miss the monarchy."

My startled look makes her grin like a hunting feline and I give her a sour glare before inexplicably dissolving into laughter. But the moment of unexpected levity vanishes when Emma's angry roar carries over the noise in the room.

"God dammit, Leroy! You and everyone else in this fucking town know the whole damn story now! Why are you still being such a dick?"

It is by far the most expletives I've heard strung together from Emma perhaps ever. Particularly as there are still children in earshot. Leroy suddenly stumbles back, rattling a table and I press Regina to stay put and rush over. Michael has grabbed my burly lover and there are angry tears making the green eyes glow. Literally. Bracing myself, I step into the line of fire and grab a hand.

The jolt is a reminder of that first time in Granny's Diner when I thought Emma had burned out my nervous system. Michael makes an undignified squawk and leaps away as I fight down the blaze of heat and confusion from Emma's powerful magic.

"Oh crap! Blue, I'm..."

Without thinking about the intimacy of the gesture, I plant a hand on his chest and wave off the apology with the other. "You can make it up to me later. Regina needs you."

With a part of me desperate to follow-- curse these human weaknesses-- I rub my forehead and flash Michael a commiserating smile before leveling a serious look at Leroy.

"You've little reason to trust me. Why keep taking your temper out on a formerly cursed Regina?"

"Look, this whole idea is BS!" Leroy rages and I see the fear in his eyes. "And I don't trust that witch as far I could teleport her!"

"Bull."

My flat comment startles him as much as it does me.

"You're just afraid."

The quiet that has settled has a feel to it that confirms that what I have said is right. So, I gentle and do my best to remember the ideals of who I once was.

"We all are. None more than Emma and Regina... and me. What if we fail you all? We would have to live with that."

 

++ Regina ++

(4-30-13)

Nearly a week later, none of the three of us, nor anyone else that's been dragged into this insane plan, feels much better about the whole idea. Emma looks to be on the verge of tears nearly twenty-four hours a day now, wrecked with the chaos he's caused.

Even the baby is restless, wiggling and shimmying and carrying on until I've begun wondering if she sleeps at all. I hesitate to bring it up to Emma, he's already ready to implode with stress, but not doing so would be worse, wouldn't it?

"David?"

My 'brother in law', walking by looking harried, pauses to shoot me an exasperated look. "Yeah?"

"Can you send Emma over? He looks stressed and I need to speak with him."

Biting back something snappy, David thinks for a moment, his gaze dropping to my obvious baby-bump, before swallowing hard and scurrying off. As is my custom now, I remain at the sidelines, no more wanting any domain over any of these civic power games than the denizens of Storybrooke want me to be involved. I'm here for my loved ones and to atone to the larger population as best I'm able. Even Leroy knows it, because the conflict on his face every time he looks at me is very telling.

"Gina? What's wrong?"

In a whirlwind of energy he can't be enjoying any more than I am, he races over and makes me wince with the power sparking off of him. So I hold up an imperious hand and the bloodshot eyes widen in recognition of what I know what must be written on my face. For a moment, neither of us moves, the crowd nearby seeming to fade away. Then he slowly collapses, falling half into my lap with a sob. 

"I'm sorry..."

"Shhh, Darling. You're holding up well as to be expected but I need you right now, and so does our child."

With strong arms encircling me and my entire chair and that big chest and lovable face engulfing the suddenly-calm baby, I instantly feel immeasurably better. Even with the magic bleeding off of Emma like heat from an open fire. Some peaceful time passes as he grows heavier, slithering away a bit until his backside is on the floor, legs sprawled inelegantly, my arms keeping his gold head pressed to my belly. Suffused with adoration, I stroke the shaggy hair and soak up his sleeping presence.

In the corner of my eye, someone catches my attention unexpectedly and I call out. "Astrid?"

The girl looks startled and oddly pleased at my attention, striding over with a bounce in her step. I know her story from Henry's book, how once she had loved Dreamy... who became Grumpy with his broken heart. Shaking off the introspection, I smile up at the younger woman.

"What can I do for you, Regina?"

"I've finally gotten this loveable fool to rest, but he's very... charged up. Has Blue explained what we're going to try?"

"As best she can."

"Care to take a wild chance and give it a shot? He's too relaxed to jolt you right now."

After a moment of self-conscious hesitation, Astrid sets her jaw and I see the hidden strength in her. My smile is completely authentic and I reach out for her offered hand, curious to see if our trick of recharging a fairy doesn't require raunchy sex.

My laughter accompanies my fingertips touching to Astrid's and I know in this exact moment that the plan will work one day.

 

++ Emma ++

(5-4-13)

"Thanks, Archie!"

Waving to the therapist and off and on pal, I carry the casserole he's just dropped off over to the table set up beneath the massive oak in front of the Mills' house. There's been a constant flow of people to what has become a block party and potluck. Besides, those in the know could probably smell that sinful lasagna halfway across town. 

No one has been able to resist the warming summer weather after a long winter, not to mention how we're all gearing up for the insanity of my stupid idea of trying to magic the whole town back to the Enchanted Forest.

Gotta learn to keep my stupid mouth shut.

"Are you okay, Emma?"

Shaking off my continued mixed emotions over this, I grin and raise my eyes from the small hand on my arm. Snow's eyes are concerned and warm and she easily echoes the smile.

"Still nervous. Don't think that's gonna go away until we step foot back in that damn forest."

For once, she leaves me alone about the mild swear word and tugs me to lean down and accept a kiss on the cheekbone. As things have quieted for the moment, I poke through the mass of foods sitting out for sampling and fill up a plate. Luckily, I spot a lounge chair over beside Michael, just at the edge of the shade from the tree. My gusty sigh as I flop down beside what must be the twin's things earns me a grin.

"Tired?" He teases and I roll my eyes and ignore a response for a moment to take a couple of huge bites to shut my stomach up.

"Yes! Regina had me up before dawn to help with this. And I had to squeeze in a couple of calls in there, much to her annoyance."

"Better start getting used to it."

"Ugh, don't remind me."

Right on cue, Regina bustles out the front door, supplies in hand, and heads over to the cluster of tables and chairs that are all over her front lawn. The pregnancy is now glaringly obvious on her small frame, as is the roundness of healthy weight gain. It looks ridiculously good on her, but then again, I'm biased as hell.

"Your wife there is one of those annoying women that is even sexier pregnant."

Flummoxed by the comment, I stare at Michael, watching his expression morph to abject horror before his eyes flick from me to the beer in his hand. 

"Oh, god, Emma, I can't believe I just said that out loud."

My roar of laughter is completely authentic.

 

++ Regina ++

The laughter catches my ear, but the coughing actually gets me to rush over. Wheezing and gasping for air, Emma is bent over, a very red-faced Michael patting his back, none to gently. 

"You're supposed to eat it, not inhale it," I chide at the mess of the upturned plate in the grass. Emma chuckles weakly and flashes me a grin, assuring me that he'll be fine once he catches his breath. Fretting over the mess, I move to get something to clean up with, but familiar fingers grasping mine stop me up short.

"Gina, let it go. C'mere, you look wiped."

Wanting to object, I find myself easily drawn down to curl up in Emma's lap. I might not want to admit it, but he's right that I'm getting exhausted. Self-conscious of the milling townsfolk and Michael close by, I nonetheless allow Emma to lean back into the long chair so that I can drape my unwieldy bulk all over him. For the first time in days, I feel relaxation sweep over me, snuggling down into the solid, muscled body.

"What was so funny?"

My simple query makes Emma shake uncomfortably with more laughter and weak coughing, but he quickly regains control and proceeds to pet me. The sweet touch makes me inclined to forgive easily. 

"Ask Michael," he says, voice trembling with mirth and I eye the larger man, who appears to be mortified about something. Rubbing his face, he hesitates while Emma chuckles, obviously at his friend's expense.

"I was... umm, complimenting how radiant you look."

It's sweet and I smile, belied by Emma's inelegant snort. "Bullshit."

"Language!"

"He said, and I quote, you were even sexier pregnant."

Utterly amused, Emma is laughing again, though still making an effort to not jostle me too much. Honestly, I like the compliment as I've felt so huge and unwieldy and just not myself. Well, that latter has been hounding me since I felt myself being drawn to this stranger who was not a stranger. Taking mercy on a clearly embarrassed Michael, I reach out to pat his knee, startling him.

"Thank you, Michael. Please ignore this hyena. He's an idiot, but I love him anyway."

The affectionate insult only makes Emma laugh harder.

 

++ Henry ++

It was a great party and I'm happy to have the twins sleep over, but I can't sleep. I've been laying here, exhausted, but darkness won't come. It took awhile, but I think I know what's bugging me now and there's only one person who gets it.

Well, one person here anyway.

Quietly, I sneak out and pause in the hallway, listening. My folks' door is closed and the house is quiet, but, leaning over the rail, I see a little light in the foyer downstairs. It's not just me then.

When I scratch at the door to the guest room, there's no delay in the familiar voice calling out from inside. "Come in."

Relieved, I open the door and stick my head in. "Gramma? Do you have a minute?"

She smiles warmly and I get one of those weird moments of getting confused by my once-teacher also being my grandmother, even though she's got to be close to the same age as my folks. Well, younger than Mom. So confusing.

"Of course, Sweetie. Come here."

Happily, I hop onto the bed and curl up next to her. I know David isn't here tonight because Emma isn't on duty, but sleeping. Mom likes it when he's here, so that's good.

"Thanks. I can't sleep."

"That seems to be going around tonight." For a moment, Snow stops petting my head, before she starts up again. "Or is just you and I?"

I know why she hesitated there, because none of us like to remember who Mom used to be, and all the horrible stuff she once did. 

"It feels like a night where I might get burned, yeah. It doesn't happen much anymore, but sometimes."

Neither of us talks for a bit, but I suddenly hear myself speak up.

"The idea to get everyone to the forest is a good one, right?"

"It's an excellent plan, yes. And if anyone can do it, it's your folks. But you have more than that on your mind. Spill."

Now she sounds like my teacher again and it makes me smile. "I hate that red room, I do, but I want to try and talk to Aurora again. She's there, in Fairy Tale Land. Don't you think that she might be able to help?"

Again, Snow pauses for a moment before petting my head more. "I think she would be delighted to help any way she could. She and Mulan both."

"Good. Can I sleep here?"

"Of course you can, dear boy. I'll be right here."

 

++ Mulan ++

(5-12-13)

I dream too often of the home lost to me now. The fertile lands and vast forests and endless seas of my lands, lost to war and the duty I chose willingly.

Faces that look more like mine. A familiarity I sacrificed.

Jerking awake suddenly, I'm halfway to my feet before even fully awake, glaring around the predawn forest. There is only a soft, agitated sound nearby, which I ignore for a long moment to cast out my warrior senses to the surroundings. Once assured that there is no danger nearby, I crouch beside my companion. 

Over the long winter and through the agony of not being able to save Phillip, I have grown to rely on this startling woman. Her kindness and persistence and even her temper. With just the two of us for all of these long months, I know Aurora well and these small, agitated sounds are familiar, even as I have not heard them in some time.

Nor has she fallen asleep on watch for some time. That, coupled with her mood yesterday, is concerning.

"Aurora," I coax quietly, touching her shoulder, but attempting not to startle her. It is a futile effort, as she starts to slump over from where she has been leaning against a tree. To my delight, she catches herself and is halfway to her feet, dagger in hand, before fully awake. "Good reflexes."

The dry comment makes her blink and finally focus on the here and now. "Mulan," she whispers, as though surprised to see me standing here. Once more she looks around, not sensing danger as well as noting that I am relaxed, before she deflates and rubs her face. "I was speaking with Henry."

For that, I will refrain from mentioning that she fell asleep on watch. It is a rare occurrence and no harm came to us. She is responsible enough to berate herself for the dangerous slip and does not need my commentary. 

"That hasn't happened in some time."

Relieved and reluctant, she goes to the dormant fire and feeds it some small tinder to coax at the embers. Patiently, I fill our cooking pot with water and hand it over. Once we both have cups of my tea substitute-- a sweet grass and an acrid bark that stimulates-- she speaks softly while staring into the flames.

"I was surprised and fearful to find myself there again. It doesn't happen often any longer. Just blackness." Shuddering, she pauses again and I can't stop a hand from reaching out to run over her arm from shoulder to elbow. With a great, tremulous sigh, she sets down her cup and presses close, surprising me with the intimacy. "I have not seen Henry in months and he was there. Despite it being such a horrible place, he looked as delighted as I felt."

"We've agreed he seems like a delightful young man," I coax, half-embracing her.

"Agreed. He tells me that the citizens of Storybrooke have a plan to return home."

My startled jerk is not feigned and she looks up at me with her blue eyes blackened by the fading night.

"I told him that we would do anything in our power to help."

"Of course we will!"

And she finally smiles at my automatic vehemence.

 

++ Aurora ++

No matter how bad things get, I always have Mulan. 

That fact saves my sanity time and again, even allowing me intimacies such as this half-embrace that I know do not come easy to her. I relish it, as I have long forgotten how to be a whole person without her.

Straightening up from her warmth-- not wanting to push her hospitality-- I take a deep breath and collect my thoughts. 

"He's very excited and nervous, understandably. He said that Emma has figured out some 'magic tricks' and is very convinced that the ritual can work." Grinning suddenly at Mulan makes her smile too, the rising dawn beginning to join the fire in illuminating us both. "And his parents have fallen in love."

That shocks Mulan as it did me, but she immediately looks thoughtful. "Emma always did speak intensely of Regina. But not with hate. Is there a baby involved?"

Shocked, I stare at her. "How did you know?"

The smile is indulgent and even playful. "Men with women usually result in babies."

The comment would be condescending from anyone else, but I only flush lightly at the implications and she chuckles and waves me back to my tea. 

"Something Emma may have not thought of. I know too little of Regina, little of it positive, to have an opinion. And there must be far worse ways to bring peace to feuding families than new life."

"That is very true. And Henry was very excited, so clearly this is a good thing."

"Excellent. What else?"

"I'm not certain that I understand, but from what he implied and things that Emma and Snow said, their town in contained in some sort of magical dome."

"I agree."

"Emma is going to try to trade the space within that dome with an equal amount of space here in the Enchanted Forest."

It's insane and I watch Mulan's face as she thinks if over. To a less experienced eye, she may seem closed off, but I have grown adept at reading her and she in very intrigued. And less skeptical than I am.

"That's a rather brilliant idea, if it can be done."

"You don't find it madness?"

"Well, certainly an element of madness to it. But if anyone can accomplish it..."

Chuckling, I raise my cup in a toast to distant friends. "Emma Swan can."

We sober and finish our tea as the morning brightens and I come to a difficult decision that I suddenly realize I have been moving towards for some time. I only needed the right push and this is a perfect one.

"It's time, Mulan. Today, we will leave this haunted place. Possibly forever; we shall see. Wasn't Storybrooke on the water? Perhaps that ruined castle where the ashes were might be a good place for them to resettle?"

Conflicted, Mulan hesitates, looked back to where Phillip's empty shell lies where once I slept for so very long. But she know that I'm right and nods slowly.

I let out a tense breath I didn't even realize that I had been holding. For I would never be able to do this without her.

 

++ Emma ++

(5-15-12)

Jerking awake abruptly, I'm surprised to find myself sprawled out on my belly with my head bent back at a somewhat uncomfortable angle. I'm in the living room… When did I fall asleep? Hell, when did I come home?

"It lives," Regina says dryly from above me and I'm gratified that it's her leg I've been drooling all over. Groaning, I get my elbows under me, letting my head hang on my neck to try and start working out some of the kinks. An elegant hand on the annoyed muscles is very welcome.

"Thanks babe. When did I come home?"

I say things like that far too often lately and it's not going to get better any time soon. This insanity I set in motion takes up so much of my time. Too much.

A sudden prod in the cheekbone stills my body and my nerves go hot and cold. "Was that…?"

The sweet adoration is so obvious in Regina's voice that the tears threatening slip free. "Yes. Someone clearly doesn't like your moving around so much."

Snuggling in closer to the tight swell of our unborn child, I close my eyes and hum quietly. For long moments, there is nothing more than the internal gurgles of Regina's body, the sound of her breath, the small movements of her body. Then, once more, that small, fluttery prod, this time on my ear. Utterly floored, I soak in my second child's touch, imagining that I can almost feel the tiny hand on my skin.

"Oh Piglet, hi," I whisper, grateful for the quiet touch of Regina's hand on my scalp. "Your mom and I are really looking forward to meeting you real soon."

On a whim, I rub my nose against Regina's abdomen like a tickle and delight at the flurry of movement, laughing quietly.

"Ticklish?"

Regina's chuckle is throaty and warm as she begins petting my hair. "I think the show is over, Darling. Come give me a kiss."

With some reluctance, I comply, because she knows better than anyone the baby's movements. Sitting up, I half drape myself along her side, losing myself in her lush mouth and stroking the bulk of baby adoringly.

"You're both amazing," I whisper against Regina's full lips, feeling them curl in a feline smile.


	30. Summer Snippets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life settles down and also becomes more chaotic as the solstice draws closer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My regrets for being rude, but I must request that the repetition of the 'I disagree with the threesome' comments, please. I get it and repetition is helping no one, particularly my fickle muses who have completely locked up now on finishing this story. The theme is part of the tale and I will not change it.
> 
> Thank you.

++ Emma ++

(5-25-13)

It doesn't feel right that I'm so frustrated. Things are all going my way and somehow, it feels like a prison instead of a blessing.

For nearly a month now, Storybrooke has been steadily gearing towards the final result of returning this entire cursed place to the land of fairy tales. It's insane and pretty much impossible and I can't fathom what the hell I was thinking when I brought it up to Regina and Blue. Snorting in almost-disgust at myself, I know exactly what I wasn't thinking, but feeling. Seems I'm still prone to feel instead of think and I feel like my interpersonal relationships have started spiraling out of my control. Yet things are still good with Regina, even with my steadily increasingly workload. The same workload that has kept Blue away and has the entire town with the pedal to the metal. 

Maybe I really just need to get laid.

The thought makes me pause and cringe before starting up my punishing workout again. It makes me so confused, irritated at myself for the stupid carnal drives that plague me sometimes, particularly now that Regina is just a few days away from her third trimester. Have I really become so shallow and... male? 

Groaning at myself and my stupid, lusty needs, I grab my seldom-used boxing gloves and turn to the heavy bag I installed before the weather started to warm and I came up with the insane idea of doing the impossible. 

Panting and soaking wet with effort, I pause in my methodical pummeling of the heavy bag in a corner of the garage. I would have preferred the basement, but the Lucas' have taken over that space, efficiently converting it into a semi-permanent living space with a minimum of noise and dust. Having them underfoot, living in the big house is as familiar as my folks in the guest room where Regina and I once dallied. The two extra rooms upstairs still stand empty, saving some much-needed privacy for our family of three and two thirds.

The baby fluttered against my cheek ten days ago and has been doing it more and more since. The soft little movements are a visceral thrill for both Regina and I, proof of our little miracle. I find myself wondering all the time what she is going to look like. With Regina's and Snow's coloring-- I have no idea where my fair hair comes from-- she will inevitably be black-haired, perhaps with a strong hint of brown and will probably inherit her mother's dark eyes as well. She'll be beautiful, she can't help but be, and will inevitably be strong-willed and smart as hell.

In my mind, I have a name I love, but haven't shared, even with Regina. A beautiful flower, tough and delicate, thriving in the summer heat to which she'll be born to. Not a rose, for Cora has tainted those blooms forever, but a lily. There are so many gorgeous lilies out there and I've ordered every type of bulb I can get my hands on, stashing them in the spare fridge here in the garage. It will be my gift to my daughter, be it here or in the Enchanted Forest.

Yanking the gloves off, I step over to the window and drink deeply from my water bottle. The huge full moon vies with the light in the garage but is so much more beautiful.

 

++ Ruby ++

Panting and ecstatic with my efforts, I slink from shadow to shadow through Storybrooke. In the dimness, I follow instinct and the invisible threads of scent in a meandering path from forest to suburb to the big white house that has become home now. In the past, I would forever wake wherever I had fallen to the forest floor with no memory of getting there. Even once I learned to control the monster I become three nights a month, there has always been some lost time.

Habitually, I avoid the brick pathway, effortlessly hopping the small hedge to pace across the infant garden that was once neatly-groomed grass. It's happening all over Storybrooke, crops replacing the trappings of the world that we really aren't a part of, despite what the curse has made us think. 

The apple tree gets a customary full-bodied rub, nose to tail, because it feels good and it's my harmless little secret from Regina. Nothing has changed in the backyard until I wander nearer the garage and catch a well-known scent on the air.

Emma, hot and sweaty.

I shouldn't and the human part of me knows it, but I'm drawn like a magnet to the open door where I can observe him from the shadows that conceal me. He's so beautiful it hurts to look at him sometimes, knowing I will forever be only the beta wolf to him. Glistening with healthy sweat, every muscle standing out in sharp definition, head thrown back as he drinks from a water bottle that trickles sloppily over his chin and down his chest, the man is magnificent.

"Hey Rubes," he greets me without even looking over as he unscrews the bottle and dumps it over his head with a groan of relief from the heat. Huffing in annoyance at being spotted, I step inside, trying to keep my eyes averted from his half naked body. "Hey, you're not going to get all weird at me, are you? I've only just started getting used to being able to go around shirtless without being indecent."

The cajoling tone amuses me and, seized with a sudden surge of puppyish energy, I find myself lightly body-checking him. A startled noise-- faintly laced with the understandable fear I've learned to live with-- escapes him, becoming a laugh as I drop into the classic canine play pose. Chest and chin on the ground, wagging tail in the air, I whine playfully. Grinning wryly, Emma mock lunges and I happily jump up to race outside, claws skittering on the concrete.

It's the best way I can push aside my carnal animal instincts, this pack-bonding play as we cavort in the glaring moonlight. 

 

++ Regina ++

(5-29-13)

"Admit it, this was an awesome idea."

Exactly the way I'm certain that Emma wants, I glare, but can't stop the amusement at his smug grin. This is old habit now, his goading of my darker side into play fighting, as though he understands that she needs to bleed off stress and dark emotions oftentimes. Grateful for the outlet for what could so easily become a vicious cycle, I latch on to the fun and games and love him all the more for it.

"Perhaps," I mock and relish his rolling chuckle. "I will say that it is a gorgeous evening."

"Too true."

Today was the start of our child's third trimester and we've been at the hospital for hours with my getting poked and prodded, listening to medical advice and generally being poured over and reassured. Doctor Kimba has been lovely; a warm, steady presence who has turned out to be one of the few caught up in the curse I cast that I have absolutely no history with. Honestly, I've no memory of her 'Pridelands' at all, but that she was a lioness in her former life fascinates me.

The suggestion of a leisurely walk in the early summer dusk was enticing enough, but Emma sweetened the deal with an ice cream cone for my being a good girl. As the shoreline is so beautiful here and I rarely took the time to enjoy it before her/his presence, this is delightful. Finishing my treat, I lean on the railing over the beach and look over the near-pointless fishing boats that can never stray far from shore and the Jolly Rodger so out of place among them.

"Did you know that I love that you needn't feel as though you have to chatter at me constantly?"

Yes, I did just blurt that out, sheepishly looking up into Emma's grinning face. We both know that I'm indirectly referencing to Snow, who's already loose tongue has gone utterly unhinged by the twins driving her half mad. I don't envy her that. But her constant chatter does fill the empty spaces of the once quiet house and I've almost grown to enjoy it, when she's not driving me a little crazy. The soft green eyes she passed on to child and grandchild are warm in Emma's face and I tug him down to be kissed.

"So, what's rattling around that blonde head of your, my love?"

His grin is boyish and sweetly hopeful. "Just absorbing doing all of this from the other side. And, well, I wanted to ask about what we want to name her."

It turns out that he was right and the baby is indeed a girl. She had posed like a champ for the ultrasound today and I subconsciously reach down to stroke her bulk as she shifts and gives me a poke. "You already have something in mind. I can see it."

He nods and kisses me again, knowing that always softens me up. "I do."

"As long as it's something better than Piglet."

We both chuckle as my entirely feigned protests to the name.

"Lily," he breathes out reverently and adoringly strokes my swollen belly. "I don't know what it is about that name, but it just sticks with me, y'know?"

"Is that what all the horticultural deliveries have been?" I'm delighted with his sweet shyness and tug him into more long kisses. "It's a beautiful name, Emma. And since I had the honor of naming Henry, I would love to keep your name idea with Lily."

 

++ Emma ++

(6-2-13)

"Regina? Henry?"

It's odd to not bump into my family, to have the house quiet and empty. Yet, I can feel a tingle of someone close by and follow the small, instinctual sensation. Seeing Blue seated at the picnic table is not at all what I expected. Her body language screams misery and I adjust my greeting and body language down to something quieter and more soothing as I walk over.

"Hi," I greet her quietly, surprised all over again to see Henry's fairy tale book open in front of her.

For a long moment she doesn't react at all and I flick my gaze down to see that she has been reading Grumpy's story.

"I saw Grumpy and Nova today," she says tonelessly and I straddle the bench to face her and give her my complete attention. "They still make me... uncomfortable."

The moue of distaste on her pretty mouth makes me swallow a smile at the reminder of the prissy nun she had been. The random reminders don't faze me anymore, as I've seen her sweaty and shattered enough to see past the facade. A noncommittal sound laced with curiosity brings around the pale brown eyes and she really does look bothered.

"I didn't know that... Dreamy, had been exposed to fairy dust. I cannot imagine how I never even guessed at it."

My hand on her knee seems to bring her back to the present. "You made mistakes, Blue, we all have. What made you come looking for Henry's book?"

"Snow."

I'm struck by a memory, be it real or imagined, I'm not sure. Mary Margaret, Henry's mousey teacher, playing her part in breaking the curse as she gifted the book to my son. No one knows for certain where the book came from, but it had to have been Rumpelstiltskin. No one else could have orchestrated it, could have known all the tales within. Angry all over again, I breathe deeply for calm and rub my face before once more meeting Blue's eyes. "You and the Dark One must have gone way back."

She's startled and not a little uncomfortable. "Yes, I suppose that is true. I wasn't always the head fairy, Emma, and there are secrets lost to eternity by even my ancient kind. Where there is good, evil finds a way."

"Like scales."

Squirming, she fights the answer, but nods at last. "Yes. Like scales. And people were crushed beneath the weight of that timeless conflict."

"They always are." Neither of needs to mention Regina... or me... or the countless others caught in that push and pull.

An uncomfortable quiet falls between us for long moments before Blue takes a deep breath. "I don't think I ever realized how... manipulative I was. Perhaps I still am." The humorless laugh sounds like it hurts. "And to think I was on Regina's case for so long."

"Love makes people do stupid things," I hear myself say and wince over how trite it sounds, searching for more words. "Or a lack of love. I think you get it better now."

Still conflicted, she searches my gaze in the evening light. "You mean by being merely human, by experiencing all of these emotions and conflicts and raw needs."

"Exactly. You won't forget this, I know that. And you'll apply it to decisions just like anyone with a brain and feelings would do. Think that might make Grumpy easier to deal with?"

A faint smirk of amusement on her serious face warms me and the uncomfortable air around us clears at last. It's sweet when she leans in to kiss the corner of my mouth, one hand resting on my thigh for a moment. "Thank you, Emma. I think that will help me understand. And to apologize for some past wrongs."

"Then you've learned better than a lot, my friend."

 

++ David ++

(6-5-13)

"What the hell could possibly be so funny?"

In the nearly ten minutes since Emma had stumbled into Granny's on wobbly legs, he has been barely been able to breathe. The high-pitched and startlingly effeminate giggling is contagious, but I have got to find out what has brought on the hysteria. Head down on the table, vibrating with mirth, Emma waves vaguely at Killian, who rolls her eyes and mutters something about insane people leaving lousy tips.

Rubbing his head, Emma finally starts to quiet, raising his head and blinking overflowing eyes. Half his face is soaked with tears and he rubs the back of his hands over his eyes to clean up some of the moisture. Breathing deeply, he strives for calm, though I can see that it takes real effort.

"You do know I’m dying of curiosity, right?"

My dry comment almost sets him off again, squirming like he has to pee, strangling on more laughter.

"Oh god, I don't which aches worse, my head or my guts. Just give me a minute."

Coffee arrives with an arch look from Killian.

"Clearly, you require sobering up."

Spluttering, Emma groans for mercy, holding his middle and nearly rolling around in the booth.

"Augh! No! If I laugh any more I'm gonna split!"

Sharing an amused look with the ex-pirate, I let it go for now, figure time and food will calm my eldest. Some hot caffeine seems to do the trick, even as the corners of his green eyes remain squinted with mirth.

"So, I finally caught leadfoot fair and square."

Puzzled, I can't figure who he means, until I realize that there's only one person who can make him laugh that hard.

"Where'd you get her?"

"Over on Millner, near Vineyard. Next time she's doing forty that close to the school, I'm taking her damn keys." Once again, the baritone voice starts climbing higher as his hilarity boils up again. "Turns out she was desperate for a potty. It shouldn't be funny! I know! But she actually pulled over and whined at me! Whined at me, David. It's was hilarious! I really expected her to flip me off out the window. I think I traumatized the neighbors, laughing like a loon in the middle of the street after she left burned rubber on the street."

"Sort of like you're doing now?"

I can't help but chuckle along at the mental image of a petulant, pregnant Regina too bamboozled to do more than obey the flash of police lights, even as she was dying of a baby-crowded bladder.

"She's going to do something awful to you, you know that right? Not an idle threat coming from Regina."

All Emma can do is laugh and laugh.

 

++ Regina ++

(6-7-13)

After lingering kisses in the front seat of the police cruiser-- the location would have once horrified me-- I finally climb out and toddle my way into Granny's Diner. The wolf whistle from my lover makes me wave teasingly, still chuckling as I step inside to soak up the air conditioning.

"Just the lady I was looking for," Killian crows in delight, Ruby's chuckle an echo. Smirking wryly at the pair of attractive brunettes, I shake my head.

"What do you want, Trouble?"

The diner is startlingly empty for mid-afternoon on a Friday and they are clearly bored. So obviously I will be required to entertain them for my lunch.

"Give us something juicy in revenge for that naughty boy mocking you over the traffic stop recently."

"Oh please," I scoff haughtily. "As though I didn't know about that little indiscretion." 

Ruby cracks up at Killian's nonplussed silence and I smirk and make myself comfortable in my favorite booth. 

"I'm surprised at you, pirate. You should know better that to assume he keeps secrets from me. Now, now, don't sulk so."

Yes, it's a little mean to mock, but sometimes I have to let hints of my old, evil self peek out. And what better playmate than my fellow rehabilitated villain? Pouting elaborately-- an expression that works far better on this pretty feminine face than his scruffy old visage-- Killian crosses her arms and throws herself into the other side of the booth. "I was hoping for fresh cannon fodder for the boy. He does take himself too seriously lately."

There's no arguing that point and a glance at Ruby's grin confirms that there is no malice in the cajoling. So I make a great show of looking thoughtful before speaking slowly. "You besides things like he still won't walk around naked? That he still giggles like a little girl? At least he's stopped bashing his head into things, though he still trips up often enough. And I dread seeing what will happen if he ever finds himself in water more than shoulder deep."

Both laugh, but Killian waves me off. "No, all of that is common enough knowledge. He won't even entertain the ladies..."

"And half the men," Ruby interrupts dryly.

"By going shirtless," Killian finishes and I have to laugh.

"Oh, that's to cover the tattoo as much as anything."

That gets the pirate's attention, her expression curious and shrewd. Looking back to Ruby prompts the taller woman to speak up. "It's called a tramp stamp here, Kil. In the small of the back. Big piece too. I think it's some sort of bird; big, dark, long neck. I'd have assumed a swan to go with the name, but they're white, so I dunno."

"Actually, did you know there are black swans in Australia?"

They're both as fascinated as I had been and I settle in with my iced tea Ruby produces to happily tell them everything I learned about the dramatic black birds that none of us will ever see.

 

++ Snow ++

(6-10-13)

"...So Ella's not sure how well Baker street is coming along, but once they get the heavy equipment bolted down as best they can and Doc told me that the big fishing ship on the harbor has sprung a leak and they're considering just beaching the thing and turning it into housing and the diesel stores are nearly on track. I think Michael was working on that, though I remember that he was getting behind on cobbling up storage for the stuff..."

Yes, I'm rambling like an idiot, my voice high-pitched and fast, but it's humiliating how good this feels. I've been hot and sweaty with Charming and not been this turned on.

Okay, bad comparison...

Crimson-faced with embarrassment, I hide my face in my hands and am further shamed by Emma's soft chuckle by my feet where his talented hands are doing sinful things to my aching extremities. 

"I see it runs in the family."

The comment, delivered so dryly in Regina's voice makes me cringe and peek through my fingers. She smirks arrogantly, the expression warming into a smile as Emma laughs for real.

"You've never complained when I get chatty."

"I'll keep that in mind the next time I need you to do something more important with that smart mouth."

"What, not my hands?"

"Oh, you seem to have that covered."

A particularly accurate dig by Emma's thumbs makes me moan like a cheap hussy and they both chuckle at me.

"That I do. And you two have kept me busy enough that I've barely patrolled in a week."

"Hey, you're the one that knocked me up."

"You never told me no, sexy."

"Well, it's better than blowing up the town I suppose."

Staring at Regina, I take in her delighted, smug grin as she turns on her heel and sashays away. Truthfully, they're hilarious and often lighten my mood. Could they be doing it on purpose?

"Did she really just joke about that?"

Cracking up at my tone, Emma kisses my swollen belly and gently sets my feet back on their pile of pillows.

"Oh yeah. Hey, it's PG rated foreplay."

It's more information than I want and my expression makes him laugh even harder, pressing a kiss to my forehead as well.

"You two have never really stopped doing that."

"What, bickering? No, we haven't. The verbal sparring is entertaining and lets us bond without endangering ourselves or others. Yeah, it's a little weird, but it works."

"Yes, that certainly is the case."

"You good? Excellent. If you'll excuse me, there's a snarky comedian I need to go bother."

Shaking my head affectionately, I shoo him away and thank my lucky stars their bedroom upstairs has been soundproofed.

 

++ Ruby ++

(6-16-13)

An unexpected sight toddles into the diner and I grin with sincere warmth.

"Well hey there, packmate. I wouldn't have expected to see you here."

With a euphoric grin, Regina leans into the counter and I can't help but get pulled into her giddy energy.

"Hi! I'm craving my old order of apple pancakes like air."

The request, while a brutal reminder of our lingering curse, still makes me laugh, because she's just so eagerly earnest and sweet about it. 

"Done. The place is dead as a doornail right now, as you can see," a wave encompassed the empty diner, save for a barely conscious Leroy in the corner. "So pick a seat and I'll get you set up."

Everyone is insanely busy with trying to lock down the whole town in preparation for solstice, hence the quiet emptiness. The frenetic cooking crew in the back, swollen three times their numbers to help keep the town fed, adds an order of Regina's pancakes to their list when I ask. 

"So, how have you been? It's been so crazy I've barely seen you."

"Huge and unwieldy and surprisingly okay with it," Regina giggles, happily taking the big mug of cocoa I've whipped up and shoving her nose into the whipped cream to get to the hot liquid beneath. "Oh, and you added a shot of coffee. I may have to kiss you."

Her giggling takes on a hysterical edge as I lean over to lick a path through the whipped cream all over her nose and upper lip. Smooching her nose, I plop down at the table opposite her and grin.

"Did you walk here?"

"Oh please, it's not far. I can't drive anymore because of this," Regina scoffs and pokes her swollen belly. "And I'm hungry."

Again, I'm struck with what a different person she is, whining about her empty stomach and giving me big, liquid, pitiful eyes. We chat over inconsequential things for a few minutes before I see her plate come up the window and rush to retrieve it.

"I miss cooking," Regina suddenly announces after inhaling several bites and making obscene sounds that I'm shocked haven't roused even the comatose Leroy. She flashes me a grin to take any censure from the comment. "Not that I'm at all complaining about having you and Granny as personal chefs most of the time."

The comment makes me laugh and sketch a stunted bow with the table in the way. Grabbing the spoon from her set of silverware, I lop off a chunk of her pancakes and ignore her glare and batting hand.

"Oh please, like you have any room to finish that. The Piglet has you too crowded up."

"True..."


	31. Solstice Transition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The longest day of the year has at last arrived!

++ Henry ++

(6-21-13)

It started with a dream.

A red room full of terrifying fire that grew to seem so real that I came back to the real world with burns on my arms. It doesn't scare me anymore, even if the burns hurt. My folks don't like it when I help, but it's not safe for Gramma to go anymore and David can't be the only hero in the family who can do this. That's not fair! Besides, Mom won't admit it, but I know that she's relieved that anything good came from her poisoned apple. Some days she still looks at me with so much pain in her eyes that I have to hug her and tell her I love her.

On the nights where there would be a message to deliver, I spent a long time memorizing the information and I'm really good at it now.

Aurora is almost always there. She sleeps regular times now, since we're not on such a rushed time table, and we've gotten really good at crossing through the flames to get close enough to talk. If this trip back to the Enchanted Forest works, it's gonna be nice to give the woman a real hug. But embarrassing too, 'cause we haven't actually met in real life or had a chance to just talk instead of acting like magical walkie-talkies, but I feel really close to her too.

It took a long time to fall asleep, knowing what we're trying to do tomorrow. Some nights it's hard to find the room in the darkness, and some nights I never find it at all, but I have lots of practice now and almost immediately the redness attracts me over. As usual, there's a weird feeling of moving from one space to another and I'm here.

"Henry!"

"Hi Aurora! Are you excited?"

Batting at the flames and ignoring the heat, I move closer to her pretty smile.

"So very excited! Are you nervous?"

Part of me wants to pretend to be totally brave and like I can totally do this, but I'm tired and stressed and would really just like a hug. So I rub my face, just like Emma does all the time now with his bearded face, and go for honesty.

"Scared to death. I'm worried for me and for my folks and what we're all gonna try and do tomorrow."

Aurora reaches for me, wanting to touch, but hesitates like she always does, because no one can touch in this awful place. 

"Henry, you are one of the bravest souls I have ever met, and despite knowing what I know of your mother's past, she clearly is no longer that person."

When I look up again, she is smiling warmly, but a little sadly like she always does. It's sad why she's sad, and I feel bad, but somehow she still makes me feel better.

"Because she helped create you."

 

++ Regina ++

Oh, it's so nice; a wet, comforting heat coaxing at my sluggish body's responses, loving hands smoothing over my skin. Even as I begin my return to the waking world, there's no mistaking my wake up call. Grinning and groaning, I reach down, skittering my fingers over the girth of our growing child to tickle at Emma's face and hair.

"'Morning," he mumbles, the vibration of his soft voice delighting me before he immediately starts up that gentle, persistent suckling once again. He's clearly been at this for a bit, as I don't get this far towards orgasm without a lot of work lately.

One of the main reasons for that lack of sex drive wakes with a sharp blow that makes us both groan painfully.

"Dammit, Piglet, I took that in the eye."

Emma's whine makes me laugh breathlessly as my poor, abused bladder screams urgently along my nervous system.

"Come on, gorgeous, up you go!"

"Oh, am I glad you're here," I groan as Emma scrambles from the bed and eagerly helps me to my feet. I have never dreamed of being so unwieldy! And I still have nine-odd weeks to go....

"Me too, Love. Now, enjoy what will hopefully be our last day of running water and electricity. Ugh, I can't believe I'm even saying that!"

Giggling, I do exactly that, enjoying the baby's usual calisthenics even as they make me feel battered and queasy. When I finally moan and wrap one arm around the bulge, Emma kneels beside me, stroking and soothing us both.

"Little monster, chill out. I think she knows it's today."

As I have ever since Emma began insisting that the baby is a girl, I want to growl at him to not use gender assignment. I cling to the false security of not thinking of the baby as a little person who we know is a girl because the idea of a daughter terrifies me. When my thoughts take that path, all I can think of is myself and my mother...

But I can't stay on that morbid train of thought with my lover's gentle touch calming me, giving me the opportunity to pick up where we'd been interrupted in the bed. Despite the baby's wiggling, I think I'd like the bonding and coax Emma into a long, wet kiss.

"Take me back to bed, stud?"

"With pleasure, My Love! The world can certainly wait for a bit."

Quickly wetting down a washcloth, Emma scoops up my enlarged bulk to gallantly bear me to the disheveled bed and arrange me comfortably. In the rising heat of the breeze from the open windows, he trails the cool cloth over my warm skin, giving me goosebumps and arousing me.

"Oh, Em, that feels so nice...."

"Just enjoy and we'll see where this goes, hmmm?"

 

++ Emma ++

I've done little more than catnap in days. There's been so much to get done. Hell, there still is, but Blue unceremoniously tossed me out on my keister a bit ago. Literally. Stupid wands. Amusement danced in her brown eyes as she ordered me home to my family. She was right though, and I left with as much dignity as I could, actually relieved to do as I was told. Between what is going on with this town and the two pregnant women in my life, quiet moments are rare anymore.

In the warm, mid-morning sunshine, Regina had been irresistible. Knowing my touch, she'd allowed me to coax her onto her back, not the most comfortable position in her pregnant state, I remember. Then I'd kissed and caressed her heated skin, happily ending up between her thighs. Until Piglet kicked me that is.

She's an active thing! And she is indeed a she, despite Regina's refusal to believe my innate knowledge. I don't know how I know, but I do. But enough of that! I have more immediate things to concentrate on, such as my gorgeous partner.

Regina is sprawled out with eyes closed and that enticing mouth curled in a sweet, feline smile. That she is this quiet and relaxed on today of all days has calmed me enormously.

For today is the Summer Solstice and the day Storybrooke does its damn level best to return to the land of fairy tales. It's too dangerous to stay here, with the borders breaking down between us and the outside world. Discovery can only end disastrously because magic does not belong in this world.

But all of this brain-aching can go the hell away for a bit, because my beautiful lover grows more and more aroused beneath my loving touch, squirming and moaning softly. So, I begin pressing kisses and licks to her rich skin, enjoying the contrasts of our tones as I always do. 

"Love you both so much," I hear myself whisper harshly, suddenly completely overcome with emotion, burying my face in her coveted inky hair and fighting tears.

"Oh, darling, you sound exhausted. I love you so much too. Come here."

I swear I'm more emotional than she is lately, and she's the pregnant one! Cuddling tightly to Regina's side, I sniffle into her mane and distractedly continue to stroke her torso, as much for my own comfort as hers.

"Thank you, Emma, again, for everything that you have done for me, for us."

"It's worth it."

"And I will never tire of hearing you say that."

Now she's sniffly too, but I don't feel bad about it. This warm, emotional woman is a delight after knowing her wounded, evil self. Hell, there is many a day when I think she is way less screwed up than I am.

There's something ironic and kinda fucked up about that...

Sharp-nailed fingertips tickle my chin, a habitually loving attention grabber that never ceases to get me to focus on her. The fathomless brown eyes are warm and adoring and deeply calm, stilling my anxiousness. Quietly, the bands of stress loosen and I feel like I can finally take a deep breath for the first time in a long time. Only then does Regina smile fully, the expression warming her entire beautiful face and forcing me to helplessly smile back.

"You and me, Emma. We can do anything, remember?"

"Thank you for reminding me, My Love."

 

++ Henry ++

"Henry? You ready?"

Emma's voice floats up the stairs and even barely awake, I can hear that he sounds way less stressed than he did yesterday. Everyone in Storybrooke sounds like that, even us kids. We've been working almost as hard as the adults with all the stuff we've had to get done before today. School was canceled as soon as everyone agreed to try to get everyone back to the Enchanted Forest, and it would have cool, maybe even fun, if we haven't all been working like crazed beavers ever since.

"Come on, Sunshine!"

Groaning for mercy, I hide under my pillow and wish I could hide for a few more minutes. But no, he's in the room, cheerful voice loud and boisterous. Unlike my mom, Emma won't just nag and I know it. If I don't move in about three seconds, he'll just yank the sheet away and possibly tickle me.

Glaring at his cheerful, furry face, I hear myself grumble, "you're in too good a mood today, Pops."

Grinning adoringly, he brushes a big hand over my forehead and hair.

"Your mom reminded me why we're doing this. Funny how remembering how much I love you guys has made me feel a million times better."

Okay, that's worth getting up for and I happily leap from the bed to tackle-hug him.

"I'm really, really glad you decided to bring me back here and then stayed."

"Oh Henry, me too. You will never know what it's meant to me."

I feel her familiar presence even before I look up from hugging Emma, returning the loving smile of the mother who has fully become just that.

"You boys ready?"

She gets a hug next, much more carefully of course. No tackle-hugging Mom. She's not big enough to take it and is really pregnant now besides. To make her smile even bigger, I give her a wet kiss on the cheek and then the hard bulge of my little sister.

"Ready and willing, Mom! You?"

Only then does nervousness flash in her expressive eyes. Even before, when she was always kinda aloof, and then going evil again, before Emma warmed her up, the eyes always gave her away. They are the thing about her I love the most because of that.

"I know you're nervous about the magic, but I trust you. Lots of people trust you now. Besides, you have Emma now."

Those eyes are bright now, tears pooling there as she pets my head. I feel really close to her right now and I don't squirm. Today I like feeling like this, like her little boy again.

 

++ Regina ++

In the deepest hours of the early morning, the summer solstice peaked, and the magic of it has been lingering heavy in the air all day, even for those not as sensitive as I. High noon is only a few hours away now, when Emma and I will reach out for our lost homeland and do our best to turn back the hell Rumpelstiltskin has put all of us through. 

There are three scenarios that will happen today. Worst case, will be absolutely nothing. If that is our fate, then we will adapt as best we can as the world around us presses closer and closer. The middle ground is that only a small portal can be opened and as many as possible of us will make our way through.

Then there is the best case and the only one that my stubborn mate will dwell on. His forceful, unshakable optimism has been my rock through all of this. He still participated in the alternates, but only because that's the logical thing to do. But in our private lives, he's resolute. The house has been locked down as though we're expecting a major earthquake, everything breakable that isn't nailed down now cradled in padding all over the place. The big chandelier in particular looks ridiculous without its sparkling crystals.

For a long, quiet moment, we three stand there, in the open space where living room and foyer meet beneath the naked chandelier, and hug. That this may be goodbye weighs heavily on our minds. Then I feel Emma straighten up resolutely beside me, smootching my head, then Henry's.

"Come on, troops, noon approaches. The old girl will be here when all of this is over and done with."

Silently, we latch onto his optimism and follow him into the blazing sunshine.

The entire town, halfway to unrecognizable after all the changes wrought in the last three months, is a hive of activity. There are lots of waves and smiles and a few neighbors that insistently come to Emma's window to bother him. Archie even comes over to give my arm a squeeze and cheerful hellos to all of us.

But even the delays cannot keep us from the waterfront. There had been endless arguments about where to center the spell we are attempting today. But in the end I agreed with Snow that this is the best place. No, it is not the center of our bubble-shaped prison, it is not the wishing well where Jefferson is holding court over the only portal we know of, but the waterfront is the best visual cue.

The curve of harbor here is remarkably similar to the stretch of rocky beach upland of George's castle. If we are to quite literally switch the space inside the curse bubble for an equal volume of space in the Enchanted Forest, we have to line things up carefully. Using the waterfront is the logical starting point, allowing the town to replace empty forest.

With a few irritable horn blasts and some mostly good-natured grumbling, Emma gets close to the hive of busyness that is the once quiet waterfront. Ruby appears out of nowhere, all sunny smiles.

"Hey pack! Come get settled in. We have shade and snacks for all parties."

With a strong, slim arm around my waist and Henry's shoulders, we aren't given a choice but to follow along.

 

++ Snow ++

This pregnancy has been both better than the first time, and a completely new hell. The twins are restless and crowded and I feel crappy all the time now. Poor David looks as wrecked as I feel and having him be away so much getting Storybrooke ready for today only makes things so much worse. Though, when big hands land on my shoulders, I know I have the next best thing.

"Hi, Emma."

"Hey, sistah-momma. What up?"

"Ugh, you sound like those idiots on the television."

Both Henry and Regina chuckle as they escape the summer heat beneath the massive awning I'm holding court under. Emma ignores my cranky jibe as he always does and expertly rubs at my shoulders until I moan like a cheap hussy. Really, it's embarrassing...

With a sigh, Regina takes the comfortable chair beside me that has been waiting for her so that she can share the strong breeze from the pair of fans wailing away. It is so strange and yet wonderful to have her be the friend I always wanted. We could never be the sort of mother-daughter we might have been long ago, but I like this relationship better anyway. 

"Don't be nervous," Emma says in a vague tone that I'm guessing may have been directed at me. Frankly, he sounds nervous enough for the whole damn town. "I should go check things out one more time..."

Before he can escape, I manage to reach over my shoulder and grab one big hand.

"Emma, come here."

There's no arguing with my imperious tone and he reluctantly obeys. While he twitches with nerves, I make him stew in it, stroking the strong features and the messy gold hair. The summer sun has bleached him nearly as pale as the striking woman he once was. There's also a ridiculously adorable riot of freckles that have appeared over his cheekbones and arms.

"You are going to be fine."

It's not a tone I have often used on him, if ever. Imperious and implacable and not to be argued with, it is my strongest 'royal' voice. And it's a tough one to argue with.

"Now take a deep breath..."

Nodding, Emma does as ordered and relaxes a bit.

"Good," I praise him quietly and tug a pinch of beard to bring him close enough to kiss a warmly tinted cheekbone. "Now, can you please go find your father and get back here so that we can do this?"

 

++ Emma ++

Ugh. So glad it's not me having to be calm and pregnant. I really don't know how the hell they're managing. At least I have the peace of mind to get on the police radio rather than driving around like an idiot.

"This is Sheriff Swan. David, where the hell are you? Get your ass to the waterfront, stat. Everyone else, time is ticking down and we all need to be in place. Keep each other strong and sane, okay?"

Man, I sound shaky even to my own ears. 

Voices start to respond from the hand-held police radios scattered all over town. Ruby, Michael, Leroy, Archie, Killian, an excited Henry and an apologetic and obedient David. Around me, the chaotic milling of my neighbors begins to drift into the patterns we've been practicing for weeks and I do my best to return the smiles and good wishes.

I'm sweating and my skin is overwarm by the time Henry startles me from my blind staring out at the point where his rickety castle once stood.

"Hey kid," I tell him affectionately and grin down into his beaming face. "When you and me get to the Enchanted Forest and everyone's settled in? I want to rebuild your castle over there. Just you and me and David."

The kid makes my ribs hurt, squeezing as hard as he can, before tearing off no doubt to bug his mother. That leaves me to rub my sides and grin at David.

"That'll be fun," my father says quietly, giving my arm a gentle squeeze and prodding me after my son.

I'm jumpy with nerves and the buildup of magic that's been happening every since we all started putting real intent behind what we're going to attempt today. It's like the whole damn town and the very forces of nature are filling me up to bursting. Regina calls this Ritual Magic, a long, drawn out affair that usually needs lots of herbs and gestures and dancing naked under a full moon, or whatever.

We, of course, are bullshitting this pretty much by the seat of our collective pants.

Just my style.

Oh, me and mine have sat and yammered with the fairies, meditated and crap 'til I snored-- literally, I might add, which got me smacked in the head by Blue-- before doing almost all of it again and again. Frankly, I barely remember a word of it, because it sounded like Swahili... or algebra.

Though it was all worth it for not just what will be the end result, but to see Regina at least tolerate the fairies. Hell, she might even like happy-go-lucky Astrid...

Suddenly, I find myself at the railing overlooking the bay that leads to the Atlantic Ocean. No one in this town except for me and August ever saw that ocean. Or the Rocky Mountains. Or the great wall of China, or the endless wonders of this world. Storybrooke has been a prison that can only lead one way for everyone else.

Their home.

 

++ Regina ++

He's distracted.

Epically distracted.

There's a distance to him that I haven't felt since we were strangers. Because, even as deadly enemies, there was never a casualness between us. Everything has always been intense and fiery and high emotions. His pulling away leaves me cold... and lonely.

Luckily for me, I can do something about it.

With no preamble, I haul my pregnant self into the sunshine and waddle over to grab Emma by the silky hairs at the back of his neck and haul him down to be kissed. And no casual kiss either, but a tonsil-scrubbing, breath-stealing, hands-off-he's-mine french kiss that makes him whimper helplessly and cling like a drowning man. When I finally let him up, the dazed eyes are leafy green and back in the here and now. Not to mention he's half hard and I'm enjoying those strong fingers on my rear.

"Are you with me?"

It's a loaded question with so many layers and his slow, loving grin warms me through and through. The carnality between our bodies simmers back to mutual adoration, his fingers tracing over my face and making me feel so very adored.

"Yes, I'm with you. Lead the way, my love, I'm at your disposal."

This time, our kiss is tender and I open up to him, body, heart and soul. In that vast well of love and magic, I place my mind and sanity, letting him boost my own abilities. Together, we feel outward for each of the interesting little talismans the fairies made and sprinkled with the small amount of fairy dust the dwarves were able to find. They range out along the perimeter of the curse and at the wishing well like bright stars in the night sky.

"I can feel them," Emma marvels, lips brushing mine. "That's a trippy sensation. How you doin'?"

It's a loaded question that I trust him enough to answer honestly.

"Intoxicated. It's hard to resist the way it feels, Emma."

Around us, the tornado of raw magic we have once again kicked up whirls with too much of that deadly, dark purple. But this bright, damaged soul who holds my heart now, smiles gently, adoringly and the seductive power of my dark magic starts losing its appeal once more.

"That's my girl," he praises sweetly.

Around us, there is a frenzy of activity, no doubt prompted by our spontaneous starting up of this half-assed ritual before the others are ready.

 

++ David ++

"Well, come on then," I say with more confidence than I feel. Frankly, watching Emma and Regina do that is frightening, all that raw magic whipping around like a tornado. Henry doesn't hesitate to race over there once I shoo him off, but he does pause at the edge of the roiling magical storm.

It takes a moment for his parents to notice him, they're so caught up in the other. There's something so painfully ordinary about Regina with her arms draped lovingly around Emma's broad shoulders, his around her waist, their mouths brushing as they speak. The normalcy of them still clashes with everyone's memories, the raging psychopath who terrorized us and the abrasive stranger who saved us. There are days when it is still hard to look at them and see who they have become. 

Green eyes and brown look over and the embrace breaks far enough that Henry can step past the curtain of whirling magics and into their offered arms. Astonishingly, the storm picks up size and speed, making everyone startle and the small family unit look up in tandem. 

Even over the noise, I can hear Henry laugh.

"That's our cue," Snow chuckles and gives my hand a squeeze, prompting me to grab the wheelchair's handles and push her over beside Blue. Then I can drape myself over the back of the chair, hugging her close and watching the spectacular display of our powerful child and former enemy are cooking up. "Do you remember it, David?"

Cheek to cheek, we stare through the haze of magic and over the water beyond where the boats bob in the hot afternoon. There's a delicate touch on my shoulder that I know is Blue, and Snow moves her own hand to take Astrid's offered one. Even the twins are growing restless in the rising energies, shifting and dancing in their tight prison of Snow's stressed body and I stroke them reassuringly.

"Look!" Astrid suddenly cries, pointing above the magical family's head and we all do so obligingly. 

"Is that....?"

Nodding silently, I answer Snow's question as best I can. None of us are entirely certain what we are looking at, but I appears that the sky... is starting to glow.

No, wait, not the sky, but the cursed border that has us all trapped here!

Standing up, I leave my hands on my wife's shoulders and look around in wonder. The coil of energy spiraling up from Emma, Regina and Henry looks to be hitting the vast dome to spread out like thick honey coating the inside of a bowl.

"Wow!"

My admiration isn't feigned.

Maybe, against all hope and instinct and fear, this just might work after all. They believe it, these three amazing people, so why shouldn't I?

 

++ Henry ++

"That's gotta be the coolest thing I've ever seen," I marvel at the force-field slowly lighting up above our heads. Emma snorts expressively and hugs me close again.

"Wait until you see what we're building up to! Hey, Pops, come're. Hell, the whole lot of you, cuddle up, willya? We're not gonna bite."

The other grownups hesitate, but Gramma gets them moving, by looking determined and trying to move the wheelchair herself. That gets Gramps to move, helping her out and pushing her close enough that she reach out and rest one hand on my back on the other on Mom's while Gramps does the same with Emma.

Instantly, there's more magic.

Then Blue steps around to put a hand on Emma's shoulder and Astrid to Mom and Ruby and Granny come out of nowhere to grab my folks in a big hug. Around us, the magic oozes down the force-field towards the ground, where, coolly enough, more tentacles of magic reach back up to add themselves to the stuff already there.

"Mom, look!" I cry happily. "The whole town's doing it!"

Sure enough, there are little boats rowing out to where the border is glowing out on the water, each of them with one of the little talismans the fairies and Mom made. When they get close to the dangerous line, even more magic sheets up the wall.

"So much of it," Mom groans through gritted teeth and Emma quickly kisses her real friendly. Embarrassed like I always am when they do that, I press my head against their sides, feeling Lily squirm where's she's squashed in the middle of all of us.

"Just relax," Emma encourages. "Just let it happen. There's nothing scary about this. Pour it into me, into all of us. We can do this. This is a good thing. This is your redemption."

There is a flash like an explosion and everything goes quiet and still. It's like the 'slow' button on the remote as the massive kablooey of lilac light goes in all directions and the dome around us flares up like a light bulb.

Then the ground falls out from under us.


	32. Happy Reunion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reunions and protecting the town abounds! 
> 
> And I get to bring in one of my favorite characters!

++ Emma ++

When everything goes still, I'm perversely reminded of those volcano movies where, before the mountain explodes spectacularly, there's that moment of 'oh shit' silence. There's no sound to the blinding flare of magic, and the ground vanishes, making me grab my loved ones close.

Luckily the deck boards are only inches away and we all land with a collective thud and cries of surprise and some of pain. Our collection of voices are drowned out by buildings cracking and splintering, glass shattering, metal squealing and the roar of water. It feels like the whole damn town has been picked up and dropped back into place.

Blinking away the effects of the bright light, I find myself looking into the dazed face of my mate, gripped close to my chest, the baby a hard lump between us, Henry crushing us both close. We're whole and together and that's all that matters to me. Near my ear, just at the edge of my peripheral vision, Granny's eyes go wide. I can't help but look over to her, even as David's voice speaks wonderingly into the sudden, stunned quiet.

"Are those...?"

Beyond Granny's poof of silvery hair, the dome fades away like fog to reveal a whole new scene. Beyond the heavily rippling water, now far lower then where we just left, is a distant, green shoreline dwarfed by jagged, towering mountains.

"Look!"

I don't know the voice, but the crowd immediately murmurs with excitement.

For we've done it.

If the perfect blue of the sky, the jagged mountains, the massive body of water isn't proof enough, around the curve of the vast, stony beach is the battered, towering edifice that dominates the island just a couple miles up shore from where we are clustered. I instinctively know, feel, that I have returned to the place so recently a prison.

"Welcome home," I say with deep satisfaction as chaos breaks out with Astrid's excited squeal that sets off the crowd.

Ignoring them all, including the jostling of excited bodies, I cup gentle hands around Regina's face and stare into the glassy brown eyes.

"We did it, My Love. We did it."

Tears well up and I kiss each eye as they drift closed, moving over her cheekbones and nose before paying loving homage to her luscious mouth. I lose track of time until our teeth are knocked together by an enthusiastic Ruby, and then Granny kissing my cheek, then Regina's. I notice too, that Henry remains clinging close to our bodies.

"You were awesome, babe. How do you feel?"

"A little high, honestly. Giddy almost. Listen to Blue and the others."

Even as we look to the cluster of the women who were once nuns, they dance around, the hints of wings and fairy dust whirling about. Gripping Regina to me, I cover one ear and press the other to my chest before sticking fingers in my mouth and whistling shrilly to cut through the noise.

 

++ Henry ++

Awed, I stare around, still clinging to my folks to stick close in the crush of larger bodies. When Emma whistles almost impossibly loud, everyone starts to quiet down so that he can yell out.

"C'mon teams, off to the perimeter to see how we survived the transition. There'll be time for partying later. Get moving!"

With a little moaning and much excitement, the crowd starts to scatter exactly the way we all practiced over and over. The waterfront looks both better and worse than everyone was worried about, several docks busted up like toys in the suddenly shallower water, windows smashed here and there, railings buckled in a few places.

"Looks like our town survived," Emma chuckles, his hand hard on my head where he presses me close to where my little sister is crammed in the middle of our big hug.

"Our town," Mom whispers with tears in her voice, but I can hear they're good tears. "Oh, I like the sound of that." Then she suddenly straightens up and her voice gets determined. "We have so much work to do!"

"Nope, you only coordinate and you know it. Mom!" Startled at his shout, Snow jerks her head around to face us, her great, swollen belly keeping her in the wheelchair. "Now we can go back and empty out that nursery the way you wanted to! It'll be great!"

Tears rolling down her cheeks, she nods.

"Emma! Henry!"

I know that voice so well, even having never actually heard her live and in person before. Among the little boats from Storybrooke, a slightly larger boat that looks totally out of place is moving quickly towards shore. In the front of the boat, waving wildly... is Aurora.

Suddenly, I’m frozen with shyness, barely able to wave back. Emma kisses Mom real quick and swats her on the butt to get her moving before grabbing Gramma's wheelchair and scurrying over to the shady spot.

"C'mon moms, out of the sun. Be back in a sec. Come on, Henry!"

Dodging people, Emma races down the boardwalk to the stairs that lead to the beach. More slowly, I follow, watching him wade out up to his knees in the water.

 

++ Aurora ++

I am no more the spoiled princess I once was any more than that strapping man is the powerful woman I met first as my enemy. Yet, we still remain those people in addition to what we have become.

Behind me, Mulan pulls powerfully at the oars, making the boat scurry across the water. We had stared for what felt like a very, very long time at the heavy forest at the edge of the vast lake at the foot of the ruins of King George's castle. Then, the landscape had begun to shimmer like summer sun in glass or clear water. Flickering wildly, the white and lilac light grew brighter and brighter as the shapes began to change within the half-sphere of shimmering light. We'd both had to look away, shielding burning eyes as there was a terrific, silent flash.

And now, where ancient trees moments ago reached for the sky, is the strangest village I have ever seen.

But none of that matters, because here is my unexpected friend, wading out to meet us, and on the stairs beyond, the boy I have so longed to meet.

"Emma! Henry! It worked!"

"Mulan! Aurora! Holy hell have I missed you guys!"

Once we are barely close enough to lunge safely, I leap at Emma, giggling with delight. He does not disappoint, whirling me around and laughing with me, squeezing tight.

"I'm so sorry about Phillip."

Yes, I knew this would be one of the first things he would say to me. Even so, the pain of the truth makes me ache with my failure to save my True Love. Oh, Mulan and I had slain the Wraith, but to no avail. Phillip remains still as the dead and without his soul, his body safe back in the ruins of my family castle where I had once lain. One strong arm leaves off gripping me to his big body and Mulan makes a startled sound as she is roughly yanked into my side. For all the time I've spent in the woman's near-constant company, it's rare that we touch and I welcome the press of her.

For we both lost someone we loved.

No, I still don't understand the nature of the relationship she shared with my lost love, but I no longer care. For I love them both and I always will.

Just as I grew to almost love this man, his mother and the boy standing on the shore watching us with bright, shy eyes.

"Henry," I murmur and Emma senses that now is the perfect time to set me down fully in the cold water so that I can wade to shore. The wet-sand green eyes are devastatingly familiar, so like his mother and grandmother, his face as sweet and wise as I knew it would be.

"Aurora," he says quietly, a hand reaching out, hesitating as he has all the times we spent in that cursed netherworld. A long moment passes, our reaching fingers not quite touching, as though neither of us quite believes that we can, at long last, do just that.

His embrace is every bit as strong as his parent's and I weep for real into the sunshine warmth of his hair.

 

++ Regina ++

It's been some time since I've felt that hot, dark surge of jealousy and it startles me with its virulent energy. Henry, clinging to the girl that is Maleficent's sleeping beauty, and Emma with a strong arm tight around the exotically beautiful warrior from the small boat. The woman I know is Mulan cuts a striking figure and smiles at my lover with an adoration I'm not certain that I like. Emma's talking but I can't hear him over the excitement and I hate that his attention is away from me. I feel so very vulnerably alone standing here, bristling with magic that feels so close to overwhelming.

Even from here, when the beloved pale eyes jerk around to stare at me, I can see the bright gleam of that familiar green.

With a hurried effort, the boat is dragged onto the sand and Emma is herding Henry and his adventuring companions to the stairs. Aurora and Snow squeal in girlish excitement, but I have eyes only for Emma as he trots over and is back where he belongs, in my arms. The soul-deep kisses are intoxicating, soothing me and making me crave him as I always do.

That the loving embrace can be seen as a none too subtle sign of my bond to him does much to soothe my distress over the strangers.

With a last warm kiss to my forehead, Emma tucks me against his side and I am faced with the strangers that helped get both he and Snow back to Storybrooke. Astonishingly, Aurora straightens from hugging Snow and executes a perfectly elegant curtsy that gives me a painful reminder of my royal past.

"I'm very honored to meet you at last, Lady Regina."

Taking the girl's cue, Mulan bows deeply, both of them with trustingly downcast eyes. Henry is particularly impressed with the display.

"As am I."

It's a weak response, but I'm still off-kilter and my mother is no longer here to frighten me into ridiculously convoluted manners. They stand and face me with subtly conflicted expressions and I know Aurora is remembering who I once was, while Mulan is wary but trusting her friends. It's the latter that speaks after a moment, her voice quiet.

"Welcome home."

And, suddenly, I feel much better, a smile warming my face, echoed faintly on her exotic features.

"Thank you."

 

++ Mulan ++

The woman is intimidating, the effect not lessened by the girth of the child growing in her womb. She is also fierce and intelligent and misses little with those hawkish, dark eyes. There's clear southern blood in her darker coloring and in the shape of her face and mouth. The contrast to Emma's paleness is striking, all the more obvious now that he has been bleached out by the summer sun. 

There is no dishonor in my looking away first.

"Are you wearing armor?" Snow marvels and Aurora laughs musically, distracting my attention.

"And bearing both sword and bow! I have a good teacher."

Despite pride not being among my virtues, I do feel some at the progress the once-soft girl has made with time and tragedy. I would not have expected her work ethic and she has been a regular source of delight to my serious and driven nature. The armor is proof of that. It's not pretty, the layers of leather rough and without any but their natural colors, but they certainly afford some very real protections from the dangers of the world around us.

The making of the makeshift armor has not been only by my hand. Really, Aurora has proven to be adept at a great many tasks.

"And you've gotten far stronger, I can feel it!" Emma adds with a laugh, coaxing his mate towards a large tent-like awning to get out of the hot sun. Even having never seen the wheeled chair that cradles Snow, I can figure it out well enough and push the obvious handles on the back. A startled and faintly alarmed man meets us halfway.

"Charming, David," Snow greets him lovingly and I share a glance before looking from him to Emma. "This is Aurora and Mulan."

He's as friendly as his transformed child, with big hands as open as his grateful expression. 

"I wish I had the words to thank you for helping my wife and child return to us. Thank you."

"Our pleasure," Aurora demurs with a beaming smile. "Despite our shaky start, they taught us much and we're both incredibly glad to have them as friends."

"Hey gang," Emma suddenly speaks, his voice distinctly uncomfortable. "I hate to do this, but David and I have to go see how the rest of the town fared and get the rest of the wall up before the ogres take note that we're here."

It's very clear that he loathes leaving his mate's side, their embrace tight, her face pressed to the base of his throat. The intimacy is warming and discomfiting to me, a normal reaction.

"Aurora, I'm entrusting you with the two most important women in my life, okay? The rest of you, come on, we have a town to fortify and check in on. You're with me, Mulan. Henry, you can stay or go, but if you stay, you damn well better not wander off."

The boy is clearly torn, but he nods and sidles over to Snow and Regina. The two couples trade kisses and the men reluctantly move off, but I pause long enough to do my best to silently reassure those left behind that I will guard their loved ones. With that duty fulfilled, I quickly break into a trot to catch up with Emma and David's longer strides.

 

++ Emma ++

It physically hurts to walk away from Regina and Lily, like my life force is being drained away by the separation.

"You okay, Emma?"

It takes me a long moment to register that I've slumped against the old police cruiser, my forehead uncomfortable against the heated metal. "Just gimmie a sec. Feels like my soul's on a string."

Overly sensitive from having so much magic run through me like a waterfall, I can almost feel the concern and curiosity from my companions. With instincts and love, I find that tense place inside and try to soothe it, instantly warmed and reassured by the echo back from Regina.

I don't need to see her smile to feel it.

Reinvigorated and reassured, I straighten up and rub my hot forehead. "Okay, I'm good now. I have to say that I really hope I never again have to do something so magically intensive."

"Let me drive," David urges and I don't hesitate to hand the keys over and swap places with him. Opening the front door for Mulan is less about gallantry and more about her puzzlement over the vehicle.

"No horses," she comments and hesitates when the noisy old engine sputters and roars to life.

"A world with no magic," I explain as she sits and situates herself. "So my former people invented devices that did similar stuff. That noise replaces horses and provides momentum to the wheels."

She nods and files away the information and I close the door before climbing into the back.

"Everything is so... uniform," Mulan marvels as David rambles through the town, letting us take inventory of the damage. There's more than I wanted and less than I feared, but by the way people are behaving, everyone listened to the training drills and stayed the hell out of any structure. At the hospital, truly the only irreplaceable building in the entire town, we get out and help the staff move their few patients back into the building and get the generators fired up. There won't be a lot of electricity, but this place in particular desperately needs some of the technology brought with us.

Even through my stress and tiredness, watching Mulan is a riot. Oh, she tries not to gawk, but even her dispassionate facade slips here and there. The surprise over the electricity is obvious, but she's just as intrigued by the expansive swaths of asphalt and concrete. 

Townsfolk-- excited and nervous by the day's momentous events-- yammer at me, but I don't really hear any of it. Our priority now has to be the wall. The emptiness of the town is misleading, makes it look like there are so fewer than our actual numbers. Why? Because nearly every able body is at the wall. 

There are still sections of road leading out to the perimeter, though many of them are gone, just like the homes that once lined them. We had to shrink the town by half, neighbors doubling up and public spaces becoming housing and support structures, just to have a snowball's chance in hell of getting the wall up. And there are still gaps; though at least we were smart enough to leave the most heavily wooded areas for last.

Chainsaws and axes and noisy construction vehicles are counterpoint to hundreds of busy denizens of Storybrooke in a race to get the wall closed before night falls and the ogres get curious.

"Hey, do you think there were any ogres here when we switched?" David muses as we pull up to the edge of the barely controlled chaos and all of us jump in surprise as a massive fir tree crashes to the ground and is immediately swarmed over.

"I hadn't thought of that. Boy will that give science a shock..."

Chuckling, we climb out of the car and wade into the fray.

 

++ Mulan ++

What they are working towards is obvious, even if some of the tools are borderline incomprehensible. Particularly in the case of the monstrous yellow beasts of metal and the most horrible cloud of dark fog they belch along with the noise, some are downright frightening.

And by the Ancestors, the noise.

Some of the lumbering devices that make Emma's horseless carriage look like a push cart, effortlessly lift massive, stripped tree trunks into place while others shove huge quantities of earth into the trenches yet others have dug. The crowds of villagers trim branches and haul away debris and somehow manage to avoid being crushed by the yellow monsters.

A fate that quite nearly befalls me as I foolishly let my guard down.

Even as I tense and turn to see a massive belt of interlocked metal plates bearing down on me, a body streaks out of nowhere and roughly yanks me away from the enormous device intent on crushing me.

A woman-- I note dispassionately-- with reflexes like a snake, who spins me around, quickly sidestepping the danger and shoving me away.

"What the hell!" she yells, and I remember the epithet from traveling with Emma. "Are you an idiot? Just standing... wait. Who the hell are you?"

She's attractive, with sharp, expressive features and long, dark hair streaked with a crimson that is clearly ornamental. There is something in her hazel-green eyes-- so similar in shade to Snow and Emma-- and the way she holds herself that tells me there is more to her than meets the eye. Abruptly she blinks in some sort of recognition.

"You're that warrior who helped out Emma and Snow. Sleeping Beauty's pal. Who else could you be, dressed like that. Man, I haven't seen actual armor in decades."

All of it is an accurate enough statement, but I cannot help but bristle at her confrontational tone. Before I can formulate an answer, Emma's voice booms out over the noise. "Ruby! Quit growling at the locals and get your ass over here!"

Firing me an almost hostile look, the woman does as ordered and I find myself following. Emma is the only spot of familiarity here and I have never enjoyed feeling so much like a novelty to be stared at. Even if I am all too familiar with it. 

"Mulan, if you want to leave anything in a safe place, just leave it in the car. No guarantees, but it's better than leaving anything lying around to get moved or crushed." With the terse words, Emma has grabbed an ax and waded into the fray. Well, I can manage a task like that, but perhaps removing at least my weapons and cloak will make it easier. So I unbuckle the heavy shoulder brace, missing the grip around my neck as I always do when the item is removed, and carefully bundle the cloak around it, leaving it with the inferior replacement sword I despise and the small purses of things I keep on me habitually. The gauntleted gloves will protect my hands through this task as they always do and I distantly note how battered and thin the leather has grown. Perhaps there is someone in this miraculous village that can reline the palms.

Very quickly all thought is subsumed by the grueling task at hand. Brutally noisy machines called chainsaws tear channels through the large trees with terrifying ease, removing the larger branches and carving rough points to be aimed at the sky. It's a brutally efficient process that is well-practiced by the denizens and I content myself with manual labor. Like any good soldier, I know this part of life, for more time is spent in travel and day to day tasks than will ever be spent in battle. And a group task soothes my soldier instincts and there is plenty to be done that does not require a stranger to take me in hand.

All in all, a rewarding introduction not just to a new life with new people, but reminding me once more that I am no longer living a solitary life with only the quietness and danger of these lands...

And Aurora.

It too feels good to take out my conflicted emotions on the tasks involving protecting my new community and to store up my many questions about everything around me and everyone is as safe as possible.

 

++ Emma ++

It's not enough. It's not nearly enough.

Everyone has worked incredibly hard, but we've simply run out of daylight. The skies are getting rosy and orange and it's time to call it before true darkness sets in and attracts our very dangerous neighbors. Sure, there's over of mile of strange forest they have to wade through, but that won't last long and we all know it. Though the forest itself has worked in our favor in many places. Like throwing a piece of carpet over an uneven surface, the forest that came with us conformed to the contours of this new land. But the trees stayed on their ninety degree axises and jut at insane angle in places. We found copses on hills with trees bristling out like angry porcupine quills and valleys where they had been smashed together like a sea urchin spines grasping at a curious finger. 

One deep scar of a valley in particular was haunting, choked with shattered trees and echoing softly with the sounds of some wounded creature deep in its shadowy depths. It was disturbing and I was happy to go find another task and leave that particular spot well alone.

As crews and equipment quickly begin to fall back behind the wall I'm delighted to see that our gap has shrunk nearly by half, no small feat, and there is a huge open space between wall and thick forest. It's the same way along the entirety of the barrier, the sound tactic of all that open space preventing any sort of effective sneak attack. The construction equipment is being parked in the gap to act as a barrier and as each roaring engine slows and stops, the sudden absence of the constant racket is deafening.

I hated being in this forest; so dark and still and dangerous. At least this time I feel safer with so many of us, even as I'm fearful of my community and my loved ones. Despite being exhausted, I doubt I’ll do more than catnap with the dark and quiet of this place all around me. 

Storybrooke is a small town, even with the thousands that live here, and has always been quiet and still after dark. But there is something about the night here that is deeper and darker than the world we just left, something about the bluish light of the moon, so very close to her full face.

True dark is falling now, small fires along the inside of the walls below the rough platforms just behind the spiked tips of the walls. My fellow citizens cluster to the flames and the deliveries of food and water that have arrived. The murmur of voices is low and respectful of the situation we are in, both good and bad.

"Tomorrow is going to be really strange," Ruby suddenly says quietly as she suddenly appears at my elbow, hugging herself tightly. The swath of luxurious crimson fabric that lay bunched in the small of her back all day is draped over her shoulders looking like so much flimsy armor on her lanky frame. 

"You have your hood and your family, Rubes. You'll do fine."

Somehow I sense that she is not in the mood to be approached, bristling with tension as the moonlight replaces the dying day. Tomorrow starts the three day cycle of the full moon and the wolf will make her reappearance in this land of magic. Anything could happen.

The magic is obvious to me now, unlike my trip here last autumn. It's pervasive and subtle and inescapable. Though the solstice, barely past, and the huge magical effort expended might be making me oversensitive, I can't tell. All of this is too foreign to me and as much as I want to go home and cuddle Regina and talk it out, I can't justify walking away from this rough wooden barrier that might be the only thing to keep us safe.

"Thanks, Em," Ruby whispers and I take the chance at a friendly hip bump.

"Any time, Red."

She smiles faintly at her Enchanted Forest name and we stand vigil in the moonlit dark.

(6-22-13)

Exhausted, I accept a lukewarm burger and equally warm soda from Killian, who's on duty feeding the troops a much needed lunch. The continued building of the walls of debris from wrecking what seems like half the town is going well and seems to be doing a decent job of bracing the hundreds of whole felled trees that we're using to protect the town. We'd started the project back in the real world, but there are still too many gaps to live in the middle of an enchanted forest full of ogres and god knows what else.

We'll still have to be vigilant as hell, but the trees will do a lot to make it really difficult to get in. 

Massive construction equipment, powered by literal tons of hoarded diesel fuel, dig trenches, relentlessly continue to push trees into place and bury them once more. We look like some giant wild west fort...

"You look tired," Mulan suddenly speaks up at my elbow and I look at her in surprise. Honestly, she doesn't look much better. It takes a moment to register that she has stripped off her armor and cloak in the mid-summer heat. Did she do that yesterday too and I'm just oblivious?

"Hey, you've got curves under there," my voice says without conscious input from my brain and I feel my eyes round with horror. Really, the Mills-Swan Swingers Club has made me some sort of cliché pig of a man. Clapping both hands over my traitorous mouth, I stare at my pal and watch embarrassment and anger ghost over her stoic features.

Later, it will be amusing that Killian takes two steps to the side in obvious expectation of her kicking my ass. The pirate is openly smirking at my stupidity and anticipation of my imminent shafting. I better start begging for mercy now...

"Oh, Mulan, I am so sorry for being so rude. I'm not usually quite such an ass."

I can't even hold her dark gaze, forced to look away and scrub my filthy hands over my face.

After a moment more, Mulan speaks up quietly, but there's a coolness to her tone that wasn't there before. Worse is her now obviously self-conscious body language. God I suck...

"Your loved ones are well. David has returned to your home and is with them. Along with several of Snow's dwarves. You should go to them."

It's been nearly two days since I've slept, I'm aching with the physical strain of endless weeks of brutally hard work and the magical high has long since worn off. Last night, the shortest night of the year, had been blissfully quiet while we worked on lesser tasks in the cool darkness, but we all know it won't last. People are going to need to start resting so that we can begin regular patrols. Night will be falling soon and fires are already blazing to life as well as the occasional generator for construction lights.

Shaking off my paralyzing embarrassment and assholery, I force myself to stand and be the sheriff.

"Soon. Right now, Storybrooke still needs me. That said, let's find Ruby and see if she's slept. Then she or I can set up patrols and I'll go rest. Clearly, I need it."

"You got off easy," Killian notes with a dirty smirk that makes me glare at her. "She rightly should have beat you stupid."

"Have no fear, Kil, I have the stupid part covered just fine."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (On 2-28-12 I spat out 1636 in one hour that covered the transition from our world to FTL, as well as the day after. Thank you again, Jane Espenson, for your writing sprints! Later edit: that word count? Yeah, It's had the hell modified out of it! LOL.)


	33. Begin Anew

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dramatics abound as our heroes start to settle in to the Enchanted Forest.

++ Ruby ++

"Your boy's lookin' for you," Grumpy grunts at me and I only refrain from growling at him because he's too tired to leer over the comment. For once. 

Good thing too, because I'm not sure I can rope in my temper right now. Frankly, I'm tired as hell and the full moon is way to close. In short order, I'll be bundled up in my red cloak, regardless of the heat. There will be no running the forest this month, not that there's any real forest left inside of the extensive wooden walls we've built around Storybrooke. And even a werewolf knows to stay the hell away from the ogres that have always plagued this land. 

"Rubes?"

It says a lot that Emma's voice brings up a growl in my throat that has Michael and his kids moving away from me. Right now, I don't want to deal with the entity that is supposedly my other bestie. The last few months have been really hard on our relationship for so many reasons that I can't even remember most of them.

"Here," I sigh heavily, knowing there's no avoiding him. Freshly washed with his gold hair spiking up comically, he looks wasted with exhaustion. 

"You okay?"

The long armed hug is a study in bliss and torment. For just a moment, a stolen moment in time, I snuggle into the muscled chest and let myself wish that I could be more than the best friend and that one-shot sorta fuck buddy and beta wolf. But only for a moment, because he has Henry and Regina and the baby. Just like Snow has her Charming and new babies on the way.

Eventually I'll find someone to love me again. Sigh...

"No, I’m tired and cranky and not looking forward to the next three nights."

"Yeah, that time of the month again. God, where have the last few months gone?"

"Amen to that."

"Have you slept recently?"

It's tempting to try lying to him. Despite his relatively accurate superpower, I can occasionally get away with a fib here and there. But I'm just too tired and wound up to even make the effort.

"I napped this afternoon, but there's no point in me even trying this close to the full moon or in the cranky mood I'm in. So go home and I'll see you in the morning. Since that's clearly what you're angling at."

He's not real happy about my bitchiness, but he's sensitive to me-- as he usually is-- and merely nods before setting me back on my cranky soles.

"You're the best Rubes. If she makes her way back out here, will you take care of Mulan? She's insistent about escorting me home to make sure I get there safe. As soon as she's got a grasp of what's up with this town, I plan on deputizing her too."

No matter how much I might want to growl at the new duo in our lives like some territorial she-bitch, I won't. So I nod an affirmative that encompasses both he and the clearly uncomfortable Mulan hanging back a bit. I've only met her in passing and spending some time with her only makes sense since she already means something to members of my pack. Besides, this means she has to deal with bitchy, wolfie me, a perversely amusing thought. Let's see how tough this warrior is when she has to deal with me on a full moon. 

But one glance into Emma's open expression, knowing this stranger means something to him, makes me instantly relent. No matter how grouchy and emotional I might be, I still adore him and I won't be an ass. So, I manage to dredge up a weary smile before shooing the clearly exhausted sheriff off to his home.

 

++ Emma ++

(6-23-13)

There are horses in wooden boxes and piles of straw and hay everywhere, making it look like a set from the Lord of the Rings. I half expect one of the Rohirrim to come thundering in, resplendent in armor of leather and brass and steel.

Resplendent? Really Swan? Been back in the stupid Enchanted Forest for less than two days and words like that are already bleeding into your brain?

"So you're the one."

Startled at a man's voice, I whip around to find two figures where there had, moments ago, been only wood and straw. The younger fellow looks to be mid-late twenties, with a kind, ruggedly boyish face and mournful, yet hopeful eyes. He's dressed like an extra from a medieval village scene, the carved wooden pitchfork adding to the look. The smaller, heavier man beside him is older and dressed like a noble in a severe, high-collared jacket. He has jowly, heavy features and the saddest, darkest most strangely familiar eyes I've ever seen. 

With a jolt I feel like a lightning bolt, or the magic I can still barely control half the time, I suddenly know exactly who they are.

Jerking awake, I feel every muscle in my body scream with pain as I stare around blearily. Dawn is coming, the pastel colors barely hinting across the sky through the windows. Home. I'm home. When the hell did I finally make it home?

Wait, I have a vague recollection of Doc and Dopey brandishing swords with more competence then I'd have believed from guys with such goofy names. They'd been guarding my family and the poor house, that is thankfully mostly intact after the rough ride here. I'd peeked in on Henry, flipping back the covers to ensure he really was there and hadn't snuck off again, kissing his forehead and stroking his messy hair. Mulan had to practically haul me off to bed, my sorry ass so tired and sore I was weaving around like a drunken idiot...

"Are you all right?"

Still here then. Good, because I have some kissing up to do for being such an ass yesterday. Not too tired to remember that. 

Abruptly, my gaze jerks over to where I can see Regina curled up beside me, her body still and warm with heavy sleep. Honestly, ever since she hit her third trimester, she sleeps like a log. She might not sleep for long, but nothing save an air horn will wake her before she and the baby are damn good and ready. Suddenly needing to touch her, still rattled by the men in my dream, I scoot closer and stroke back lustrous dark hair away from her peaceful face. She is so beautiful to me...

"Just a nasty shock in my dreams," I finally remember the question I was asked and raise my eyes to the shadowy Mulan. "Do you believe in ghosts?"

"Yes. Dreams are the domain where they most easily visit the living."

It sounds like she has a few ghosts of her own. One day I'll give her an ear if she wants it, but not in the deep darkness of this world's night. It scares me, the absoluteness of it, the natural darkness nearly unbroken by the technology so much a part of the world I have left behind.

Groaning expressively, I try to make myself more comfortable, but even the exquisitely comfy bed can't soothe my aching body. The soreness in my muscles is agonizing and, as much as I'd like too, I don't know that I can push past the pain, at least not without sobbing like a baby. Idiot. You're big and strong, but you've pushed too hard for too long.

Seems my physical strength and my inborn mojo have their limits.

 

++ Mulan ++

They are a beautiful couple, made all the more interesting by their being so completely opposite. The summer sun has bleached Emma out nearly as pale-haired as when I first met the woman who became this man, and flushed his pale skin like the palest of baked breads. Regina, a stranger to me, is dark and mysterious and utterly luminous as only women heavy with child can be.

Despite what I know of her and her former path of evil, I am intrigued and look forward to getting to know her when there is time. So far, my own observations this night shows me that she sleeps the sleep of the forgiven and that eases my scarred heart somehow.

As though startled, Regina suddenly awakens with a start.

"Emma?"

Instantly, he is every inch the devoted mate, touching and soothing her.

"Hey, sexy lady."

"Oh, you're here."

Her voice is soft, loving and full of wonder. This is a private moment and one I should not be privy to, but how am I to make an escape?

Regina makes a soft sound of sensual surrender, echoed with a lower sound of adoration from Emma, their mouths blended intimately. But Regina's voice alters suddenly, a sharp hiss reaching my ears.

"Ugh. Your child is restless today. And my arm is sound asleep. Did I hear voices?"

"My poor girls. Yes, you heard me talking to Mulan. Mulan?"

Startled to be addressed, I reluctantly shift in my seat, feeling Regina's intense eyes zero in on me.

"My apologies for invading your privacy, My Lady. The need to guard those I care for is deeply ingrained."

With practiced dexterity, Emma is helping his heavily pregnant mate roll partially to her back and she groans expressively. I jump up to help without thinking, kneeling beside the bed and ignoring my aches and pains. Her skin is uncannily warm and soft against my hands and some faint arcane energy skitters up my arms and warms me from the inside out. Rather than feel threatened by it, there's something soothing about what I'm guessing is a magic I have never encountered. As the warmth spreads, my hurts fade and I feel alert and far more rested than I did moments ago.

Astonishing...

"Thank you," Regina breathes, her expression tense, but starting to relax. "For bringing him home."

The statement, and her open expression, is a vulnerability I would not have expected to be entrusted with. We are strangers, who know only tales of the other, and what I know of her is woefully out of date, enhanced only with the snippets Henry had been able to pass along to Aurora through the netherworld. 

"My pleasure. Persuading him wasn't hard."

 

++ Snow ++

A racket of noise wakes me abruptly, dragging me from the relief of sleep.

My pathetic moan isn't feigned.

Like a heat-seeking missile of misery elimination, Emma appears in my doorway with a click and rustle of the double doors. 

"Hey Mom," he murmurs gently and appears around the bed to kneel beside me. He doesn't ask how I feel, doesn't hover like his father does, he only strokes my hair and smiles sweetly and with an edge of sadness. Before I can speak, more people come into the room and I recognize the groan behind me as the bed shifts with Regina's weight.

Before I can bring myself to ask, they are both touching me, that healing energy pressing into every cell, bringing me sweet relief. There is plenty of stress left in me that no magic except birth can eliminate, but the aches and pains are gone for now.

"Thank you both," I murmur and jump with a giggle as my second grandchild kicks me in the kidney. "And you too, Piglet."

Laughing at what I'm certain is Regina customarily rolling her eyes at the baby's pet name, Emma helps me stand and shoos me off to the bathroom. Once I finish that familiar business, I return and smile at Mulan, who looks like she feels painfully out of place.

Only then do I remember an unfinished task that has been bothering me for so many months.

Mulan looks taken aback when I walk over and place my hands on her strong upper arms. For a long moment, I only watch the restless, dark eyes, until she calms and focuses. 

"You made a huge sacrifice to help Emma and I get home," I say quietly and she blinks, clearly not expecting the words. When she opens her mouth to speak, I raise a hand. "No matter how we were at odds or working together and back and forth, you made a huge sacrifice and I will always be grateful for that."

With a understanding smile, I nod my head towards the bed, not far from where Regina still lays.

"Warrior, your sword."

Wonderingly, Mulan goes to the bedstand, where her sword rests beside David's, and picks it up.

"I've kept it close all this time. Honestly, I confess that I'll miss it, but it's back where it belongs now. With you."

Pulling the enchanted, deadly blade from its unadorned leather scabbard, Mulan eyes it, her expression a melancholy mix of pride and pain.

"This was my father's sword. And his father's before him. This is a very old family heirloom that I have done my best not to mourn. Thank you Snow, for keeping it safe."

"My pleasure and my honor. Do you still have its proper scabbard?"

The younger woman winces as though struck and my heart hurts for her. There are heavy tears in the dark eyes and her voice is soft and harsh.

"It lies with Phillip where we were forced to leave his empty body."

 

++ Regina ++

"Your chariot, Madame!"

With that jovial hail, it's time for me to go. On my way out with my small supplies, I pause at the doorway of what had once been the guest room and the soft voices within quiet. Snow and Aurora look at me with sad eyes.

"I'm off to see Emma. You sure you'll be all right?"

Snow smiles and pats her young friend on the leg.

"I'm not alone. Give that boy a hug for me?"

"With pleasure. See you in a few hours."

"Bye!"

My once formal yards are unrecognizable, most of the hedges gone, the lawns replaced with crops and hay. Thankfully the great oak tree still stands sentinel over the house, which is a comfort to myself and Henry both. It will not be added to the massive fence around our town, if for no other reason than its sheer mass.

At the end of the brick walk, left intact for now, Killian waits with the team of horses that Snow and I gave up for city use, and the marvelous wagon that Michael created. Still ugly, the utilitarian conglomeration of car parts is an incredibly smooth ride, even over horrible terrain. Those huge tires and the bulky suspension do their job well.

"Good evening, Regina," the ex-pirate sing-songs as I go to each beautiful mare and offer her a quarter of the apple I'd sliced earlier. They greedily chomp down the treats and nuzzle my hands adoringly. It's mutual and I rub their noses and foreheads.

"My pretty girls, I've missed you."

With that and other endearments, I finish greeting the team of four and painstakingly climb up beside Killian in the comfortable bench seat. The rig someone made for her that resembles the controls of a marionette puppet is still terribly clever. It allows control of the four with a single hand with a bit of assistance from the utilitarian hook.

Like the expert team they are, the mares are off with the slightest command from Killian, warm air brushing my skin in the moonlit night.

"How are you holding up, darling?"

The query makes me smile at Killian.

"I could ask you the same. Thank you, by the way, for bringing me along."

"Can't keep you from that stud of yours, now can we?"

 

++ Emma ++

A ripple of alarm blasts through the worksite and everyone lunges for the guns and bows kept close at hand. There's already been one stab at our defenses tonight, the pair of ogres driven back by a hail of wood and lead. 

Instead, we quickly realize the alarm is internal and our attention turns from the shadowed forest back towards our home. I barely have time to twist around when an inky streak of motion, seeming to be only inches from the ground, practically tackles me to the ground. Lucky me, the almost familiar wolf form of my best friend isn't going for a proper body slam, instead, she rams me nose first in the goolies trying to dive between my legs.

The small part of my nervous system that hasn't gone temporarily offline marvels that I've forgotten how much that hurts.

Reflexively, I'm already wrestling her whining, thrashing body, yelling her name at the top of my lungs. It's a damn good thing she's showing no inclination to bite, just straining to get away, clawing at the dirt like a madwoman. 

There are hoofbeats thundering towards us, a dangerous riot of sound that alarms everyone far more than the panicking werewolf. I finally have to kneel on Ruby's powerful neck and chest, one hand crushing an ear and the other anchored in her ruff with the bulk of my weight behind it.

I can't let up until Michael half collapses on the rest of her, but his eyes round almost comically as he looks over my shoulder.

"Holy shit!"

By moonlight, we all witness the spectacle of the familiar team of four snowy mares and their piecemeal wagon a panicked streak against the darkness. Worse, they're headed our general direction and we have no place to hide.

Then, another dark streak comes out of nowhere to dive onto the head of one of the lead horses, hanging on like a burr. In mere heartbeats, I see that it is a slender human figure, black hair like a banner and further back in the darkness is my mate behind the reins.

The screaming terror is one I have felt before, when I smashed down her door to find Cora menacing her daughter and grandson, blood and glass a macabre spectacle. But this time, the danger is even worse because of what Regina means to me now, and because of the precious burden she carries.

And, just like that, it's over, the lathered mares sliding to a dusty halt and many hands grabbing their tack to restrain and calm them. Thankfully Ruby has finally stilled, given little choice by the sheer weight of mine and Michael's big bodies. He pushes me to get off her, remaining hovering so that I can race over to the wagon.

"Regina!"

Only once I have carefully pulled down into my arms can I calm, gripping her tightly to me.

 

++ Regina ++

I don't know what spooked the quartet of well-trained horses, but they yank themselves out of Killian's control in an instant. In the moments it takes me to lunge over and grab the fallen traces, the mares have stretched into a full gallop, jostling me roughly. The electric lantern mounted between the lead animals quickly shatters, adding to the fear and danger and sending the foolish beasts towards the nearest pool of bright light.

They had been slowing, their greater strength giving in to my adrenaline-fueled drag on their foaming mouths, but the shadowed streak leaping on the lead mare had done more to shock them into stopping before they plunged into the crowded work site. 

I don't even know how I get into Emma's strong arms, but I cling to him and shake with adrenaline and fading fear.

"I... I don't know what happened," I whisper against his ear, feeling him shake against me as well.

"You could have..."

Quickly shushing him, I cling harder, his very presence calming me and I hope I do the same in return.

"We're fine, both of us. All three of us."

Upset by the rough jostling and doubtlessly aware of my heightened mood, the baby is squirming and kicking painfully, battering my insides and her father's midriff. Scooping me up into powerful arms, a sensation I never tire of, Emma strides away from the nervous horses to sit down and cling to me, stroking the baby bump firmly and soothingly. 

"Shh, shh, sweetie. You're fine. Shh..." His voice is thick and watery, making me squeeze him even harder. And as she usually does, the baby calms at her father's touch, letting the all too familiar acid burn in my throat and belly subside. "I'm beginning to see how Rapunzel got locked away in that tower."

The comment is so unexpected that I laugh sharply without thinking. "That would never work with me, Darling, and you know it. No more gilded cages for me."

From the knot of people around the now calm horses, a slender figures separates from them to drift into the darkness.

"Mulan," I call out sharply, making her stop in her tracks and Emma to snap his head around. "Come here."

The imperious tone is a stress reaction, but it clearly has an effect on her warrior sensibilities. With only a moment's hesitation, she limps over and stiffly kneels, head down. The formality of the subservient pose tugs at memories, of warriors and guardsmen swearing fealty to me out of fear and self-preservation and sometimes even a perverse adoration over what I was. 

But I never touched any of them even as they knelt at my feet.

Mulan flinches at the press of my fingers and palm to the crown of her head. The black hair is thick and soft and wiry, her scalp hot with her recent effort for those I love. We are strangers, but bonded through Henry and Emma and the coming child. A sharp shudder runs through the woman as I almost unconsciously reach out with the magics of Emma and myself to soothe away her most recent hurts.

"You endangered yourself for myself and my child."

 

++ Mulan ++

I don't know what possessed me, my feet in motion to charge the clearly spooked horses. I've always been good with the animals, sympathetic to their strengths and weaknesses of spirit and social structure. And protecting the innocent is as innate to me as drawing breath. Not Regina or Killian, once both evil, but the unborn child and the work team that may have been crushed by sharp hooves and the heavy wagon. 

Obeying Regina's imperious order? Kneeling at her feet without thinking? It is ingrained in me, to fall back to the archaic behaviors when encountering those of higher station. No, she may no longer be a queen, but there is something undeniably royal about her. 

The press of the elegant hand to the top of my head is an intimacy that makes me flinch. It seems almost inappropriate, that intimacy, the press of a respected stranger past my boundaries. Though I cannot complain about the pain of the rescue fading away. Even as I squirm, wanting to get away, to keep my walls intact to protect the rituals and council that keeps me true to myself, she speaks of my endangering myself for her child.

"Yes, My Lady. I... feel a very powerful bond to your family. In many ways."

There is a long, thoughtful pause before she speaks again. "Look at me." 

Even as I obey, her hand falls away and I see that she is shifting in Emma's lap to stand and look down at me.

"I would have your fealty, Warrior."

The startled look on Emma's face must be reflected on my own, and Regina's expressive mouth curls just slightly in a smile. "Not for me. For the children. Ours is a large family and you would be most welcome."

"I would be honored."

It is an honest statement, borne of a need to belong to something larger than myself once more.

"Give me your sword."

Suddenly, this strange interaction has taken on a whole new dimension of seriousness and Regina imperiously shushes Emma when he tries to speak. For long heartbeats I search the dark eyes, so close in color to my own. In them is only gravity and respect, no mockery.

The sword hisses as though alive as I draw it and set the deadly blade on her outstretched palms. It looks strange against her voluptuousness, her soft sorceress' hands. 

"Do you swear loyalty and protection to the family I now belong to? On your family sword?"

Yes, somehow this woman understands me, how I long for a place to belong once more.

"I swear my loyalty to the family you now belong to, My Lady. Your family is now my family."

And something disjointed and broken inside me settles into blissful calm.

 

++ Emma ++

I'd automatically objected to the royal bullshit treatment that Regina had suddenly whipped out of nowhere, but obeyed her 'shush' motion anyway. Glad I did too, as something in Mulan has clearly changed. She looks... peaceful. With her beloved family sword resting in Regina's hands, battered and filthy, swearing loyalty to virtual strangers, she really does look calmed by the whole thing.

It goes against everything I know from a world where being an individual is regarded as near-holy. Where rights are law and this sort of devotion is an anomaly.

In truth, it's rather humbling. 

With that reminder that I really am living among fairytale characters, I willingly sit back and let Regina and Mulan do as they will. 

With surprisingly dexterity, Regina juggles the blade until it rests hilt out, the deadly blade pressed trustingly against her ribs. And along the swell of Lily's compacted bulk. Now, I traveled extensively with Mulan and she earned my absolute trust with time. Yet, when Regina tells her to take the blade, I really, really want to jump up and swat them both away from the sharp steel.

But the visceral fear is just lizard-brain hysterics and Mulan stands and removes her sword from endangering Regina's vulnerable body with the dexterity of a magician.

"Then be welcome, Warrior."

Regina's tone is both warm and aloof, but I can hear the thrum of emotion beneath the words. Just as I can see how moved Mulan is, emotions heavy in her eyes. A hand on her arm keeps my warrior pal where she is and quite abruptly, Regina's voice carries over the babble of voices.

"Ruby! Come here! Now."

That's a tone I've never heard, but everyone else in earshot freezes and cringes. Ah, a reminder then, of the woman in their midst who was once the greatest threat any of them had ever known.

It's easy to forget most days who she once was.

After a long moment, Ruby slinks over, belly nearly on the ground. She looks like a beaten dog, not a proud wolf, whimpering like a traumatized puppy. Regina stares implacably at her, even as the wolf presses herself to the ground and stares up with dark, wet eyes.

"You inadvertently endangered people, Ruby, due to stress and not taking care of yourself. Do not do that again. You have a responsibility to your pack now and you know it. Now, come here, you great, silly thing."

Plopping herself back into my lap, Regina offers open arms to the deadly wolf, who is instantly pressed to her whining and licking and I join Regina's hands in stroking the dramatic head and thick ruff.

"Gina's right, Rubes. We've all pushed too hard and we're lucky nothing horrible happened tonight. So, we're all going home and tomorrow, we'll reevaluate. Oh, and say hi to your new packmate. You two will have to learn to share beta position, okay?"

Wolf and warrior regard each other and I swallow a grin and help Regina stand. I have no doubt they are both strong enough to find a way, given time and incentive. With a hand on Ruby's head, Regina walks imperiously to the waiting carriage where this bizarre event started and Mulan graciously helps her aboard. I trot over to get the work crew back on track, pass out a few orders and make sure that dinner is left in Killian's capable hands.

No one has a bats an eye as I wish them goodnight and retreat to my family members, motley crew that they are, and leave for home to settle our rattled nerves, together.


	34. Storied Ghosts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another new arrival tests the will of the Mills-Swan (and company) clan.

++ Mulan ++

"Where the hell is your hood anyway?"

Emma's exasperated question makes the wolf whine where she lays at Regina's feet in the wagon. Despite my many experiences, I am finding it difficult to reconcile the expressive animal with the striking woman I met just yesterday afternoon. 

I had easily taken the reins from Killian, who I also met yesterday, and taken a moment to figure out the odd arrangement that accommodates her artificial hand. I'd done my best to ignore the mischievous, bold eyes that matched the playful smile as she relinquished her spot and wandered off to join the work crews. Now I easily control the four snowy white mares in their traces and try to ignore the prickly sense of danger at having that deadly predator at my back. 

"I do hope you haven't lost it, dear," Regina chides affectionately and the wolf grumbles and whines again, something annoyed and entreating in the sound. Regina's chuckle carries through the darkness, echoed by Emma. I jump when something prods me on my flank and a sharp look reveals Emma's booted foot retreating. Naturally, I turn the sharp look to the back of the wagon and the moonlit forms of my companions.

"So, you're family now. Sweet."

As always, Emma's odd choices in words leave me faintly confused, but the sentiment shines through clearly and I smile faintly at his engaging grin. "I'm happy to belong."

The shadowy movement at the feet of the pregnant couple draws my eye for a moment, the darkly-furred wolf watching me with glittering eyes. This time I choose my battles and look away first. Acceptance into this family is rank enough and whatever middle ground I will have to find with the beta must be done face to face and with words, not claw and sword.

The fields are quiet in the moonlight, no one about at this hour and the twinkling lights of the town draw us ever closer.

"This is nice," Emma muses quietly and I can hear the smile in his tone. "A romantic carriage ride in the moonlight."

Regina only chuckles and murmurs something I cannot make out. It takes a real effort, but I manage to do little more than flinch when the wolf suddenly clambers up onto the seat beside me. Now that I can get a good look, she is a beauty, sleek and dark and deadly. The dramatic head remains facing forward and the very familiar expression of embarrassment on the canine face coaxes a smile onto my own. The black eyes flicker over at me and ever so subtly, Ruby relaxes.

In that moment, I feel the first stirrings of kinship to this unusual woman who is so integral to the family who has made me a part of them. The shape she wears is ceasing to mean anything strange as the novelty wears off and side by side we lead the way back to home.

 

++ Emma ++

(6-24-13)

"Horses," I find myself muttering and rubbing hands over my face. "Why does it have to be horses."

"There's nothing wrong with horses."

The shock value of the voice is slightly less this time, but I still hesitate before turning around. "Hello, Daniel. Henry."

They seem as nonplussed as I feel by the greeting and we all stare curiously at one another. 

"You have the feel of her," the older man says hesitantly. "Who she was before things went so very wrong."

For a moment, I hesitate again, but nod. Even in spirit, I won't lie to these two. "I love her."

Somehow, it's the right thing to say, their clear relief almost comical as it sweeps over their very different faces. "Even after what she became?"

There's something as broken in Regina's father as there is in the woman herself. "Regina was as manipulated by destiny as I was. So far as we know, Rumpelstiltskin's deeds finally caught up with him and dying in a world with no magic seems to have destroyed the curse of the Dark One as well."

More stereo relief makes me smile and step closer, straw squeaking beneath my feet. "I'm Emma Swan. Pleased to meet you, even if you gave me a hell of a shock. Y'know, since I'm asleep somewhere and you two are... gone."

The lame fumbling for that last word actually earns small smiles. Maybe it's because this is a dreamscape of some sort, but their expressions are nearly perfectly in sync. It's trippy.

"You called us."

Okay, that takes me even more by surprise then seeing them in the first place. "Me."

The statement is flat, almost accusing and this time Daniel speaks up. "We have never been able to rest in peace, Emma Swan. Our lives were caught up and then taken by the destinies and curses that nearly destroyed Regina. So, we have lingered, hoping."

"Hoping to what?"

"To help."

"Even in death," Henry Senior says quietly and I remember how he died, finding my own heart aching for this stranger. "We still love her."

 

++ Henry ++

I don't know what wakes me up, but suddenly I'm lying here in bed, blinking and listening hard. It's crazy early, my window still barely getting blue, and the town is dead quiet.

Eerily quiet.

Me and Emma don't like it, the quiet and the darkness. It's freaky. I mean, Storybrooke's always been pretty quiet, but not like it is now when it's dark out like this.

Wait... what is that?

It's a soft, whooshing sound that I can't place. Like... wind catching the side of tent and snapping the fabric tight.

A scary thought drops into my head and I'm on my feet and at the window, leaning out as far as I can to squint.

Or wings...

It's like I conjured it up with my own brain, just because-- deep down-- I really want to know what one looks like up close. A huge, winged shape with a long neck and tail and four legs, twisting into a steep dive right over the house.

"Mom!" I scream at the top of my lungs and bolt for the door. "Emma!"

I remember feeling this afraid when Cora was here, hurting and scaring me and Mom. And she wasn't the size of several buildings. With some part of me really, really hoping my folks aren't doing something gross and grown up again, I charge around the horseshoe-shaped balcony and crash into their door. I half get it open and half break it, stumbling in where Emma is sitting up like someone shot him, his eyes wild.

"There's a dragon dive bombing the house!"

Like it heard me yell, a horrible noise blasts through the early morning like a air-raid siren from those old war movies we watched in school a few times.

"Oh no," Mom whimpers as she sits up, pressing into Emma's side even as I throw myself into them.

"Oh, hell no," Emma growls angrily and I can feel that magic building like we did on summer solstice, but hot and fast this time, like an explosion. Mom makes a strangled sound and even I have to cry out because it feels like pressure, like something pushing down onto me just to the edge of hurting.

The roar outside builds and the air glows, until the entire house shakes like a giant walked by and stumbled into it. The crash outside is deafening and Emma gently struggles away from me, yelling over the noise. "Bring your mom, Henry!"

And he's gone.

 

++ Emma ++

It's instinct, a lizard-brain drive to protect what is mine.

Vaulting over the railing only halfway down the lower flight of stairs, I land in a kung-fu crouch that will impress the hell out of me later. Still on pure instinct, I raise a hand for the only tool I had to slay a dragon once before.

Snow's scream accompanies my father's sword smashing its way through the glass french doors to land in my open hand like I'm a frickin' magnet. The front door whips open with pure magic effort and the cool morning air is a shock to my nearly entirely bare skin, one I barely note as I charge down the walkway like a lunatic.

Groaning, the dragon is shaking off the hit, blinking as it gets to huge, taloned feet, the forcefield around the house reflecting in those great eyes. It snarls at me, arching its back and sidestepping, wings and tail held high.

"Get the hell out of here!" I hear myself yell like some idiot shooing off a stray dog and damned if the thing takes a step backward as I advance.

"I've no quarrel with you, Knight," a distinctively female voice echoes around my head like I'm the inside of a subwoofer. 

"Yeah, well, my town. So back off or I'll see if I can't repeat history with this sword."

The reptilian gaze flicks from me, to the sword, to the house and back again. This is no brainless monster, but a calculating predator, no matter that she's the one backing up right now.

"I am here for the one who destroyed the last of my kind."

That stops me up short, startled, and she hunches down to growl and show off an impressive set of dental cutlery. 

"You're looking at her... err, him."

Clearly startled, the monster glares at me. "You are not the evil one that cast the curse that emptied these lands."

Crap. Of course the dragon is after Regina, because god forbid we could start over again in anything resembling peace. "You'll touch her over my dead body," I growl, barely noticing the fire licking at my hands where I cling to the sword and advance on the dragon threatening my family. With an athletic hop, no small feat for a monster half again the size of the one I already killed, she backs off, the asphalt crunching underfoot and I cringe as the clock tower crumbles. It's all the distraction I need and I start to charge.

"No!"

The voice stops me in my tracks, loyalties instantly torn as Henry races up to plant himself in front of me. "Dammit, Henry!"

"Please, you can't hurt her! She's my mother and I turned on her for a long time because all I saw was the bad she did. I didn't see the reasons, or how she'd been hurt so bad that she fought back. Please don't do the same thing. Please."

The dragon has stopped dancing around and regards Henry curiously. As the ominous smoke curling out of her nose has stopped, I'm willing to let Mister True Believer talk for now. But my magic still burns hot and fierce like a cocked gun ready to fire. And by the way she keeps half an eye on me, the dragon feels it too.

 

++ Henry ++

It's hard to not chase after Emma. Really hard.

But he left me with an important task and I know it. 

"It's gonna be okay, Mom," I try to be reassuring, but her terrified expression doesn't change. "Emma can handle a dragon."

Being careful not to tug at her, we get downstairs pretty fast, meeting up with Gramma who's babbling about flying swords and step outside to see exactly what's going on. Later, it's gonna be funny to watch how carefully the dragon is avoiding buildings as it backs away. That convinces me that it really isn't here to savage the town and maybe, just maybe, I can talk to it.

"Mom, I have to help Emma, I can stop it," I tell her, grabbing her arm and her eyes are really scared. But she stops and really looks at me, like she's seeing me for the first time. For a moment I have that weird feeling like I completely share a brain with her and she leans over to kiss my forehead.

"I know you can. Go."

Later, we're gonna talk about this, even if I have to bring it up, but for now I race around the corner and down Main Street to where Emma is stalking the dragon in his underwear. My opening round of negotiations stops them both in their tracks and I swallow hard when I see how big the dragon really is. Terrified suddenly, I almost chicken out, but I'm comforted by the heat of the flames on Emma's hands right behind me. He won't let anything hurt me and I know it.

"And who are you, child?"

Yeah, I thought I heard a woman's voice, low and smooth like Mom's, and one huge eye angles to see me better. 

"I know what happened to Maleficent and it must have been really lonely here unless you were stuck in the curse too and then you haven't been lonely for so long, but still... lonely."

The dragon looks down the street and I can actually feel Emma get more tense. "Yes, the curse."

"I can tell you what happened," I hear myself say and I'm startled to hear it, but it feels right to offer to tell our complicated tale to a dragon. "I can tell you everything. Why the curse was cast, and how we got back here and all the stuff in between." It's hard to read a dragon face, but I think she doesn't look so tense now, like she was gonna pounce before and isn't so ready to do now. "Would you like to hear it?"

Behind me, I hear Mulan hiss at Emma to put the sword down, and her voice sounds awed. Yeah, I know how she feels.

Taking a step forward, I try to not look as nervous as a feel and keep my gaze on that one, enormous eye. 

"It's a long one. Could take months to tell, and years to really get right."

In a cloud of silvery smoke, the dragon vanishes and suddenly there's a woman standing on the street dressed in a shiny, elegant gown and holding a staff.

"I find myself intrigued by your offer, young man. You may call me Iyla."

"I'm Henry Mills and I'm honored to meet you."

 

++ Mulan ++

Awed by having one of the Ancient Ones so close, I can only gawk, flinching away as she regards me with a piercing, cool gaze. In this incongruous human-like form her eyes are a flat, dull silver like an aged pewter mug, the slightly elliptical pupils inky in contrast. Something that might be a smile plays around her mouth before that unnerving gaze moves to Emma, still rigid with tension and alarm.

"Knight, your son has won peace this day. I will bring no harm to your community."

Those eyes flicker to the enormous white house and back to Emma.

"You have my word."

Still clearly reluctant, he hesitates and I have no idea what to do. There is no need, as Henry turns to the person once his mother and now acting as father. "Pops, it's okay. I got this. Go take of Mom, please?"

With another pause in the growing dawn light, Emma glares fiercely at the dragon before finally lowering the sword hugging Henry hard. "Okay, kid, I trust you. And no one will tell the story better." His green gaze returns to Iyla, still wary, still flashing with power, but less hostile now. "I have no wish to harm you, only to defend those I love. Peace is always preferable. I'll abide by that."

The terms are accepted with a regal dip on the dragon's pale head, her coloring so much like the man who was so briefly her opponent. "Agreed, Knight."

"Get in a nap at some point, Henry."

"Sure, I can do that."

Danger over, Emma kisses Henry's forehead and limps heavily back to the house, nearly dragging the sword's point on the ground.

"And you, Warrior?"

Jerking my eyes back to the disguised Dragon, I feel like a frivolous girl, tongue-tied and blushing. "I... I am beholden to the boy's family."

"Beholden?"

There is a lilt of curiosity to her smooth voice and I find myself falling back to the same explanation that I have given before. "It is in my nature to serve."

She only smiles enigmatically and returns her attention to young Henry. As I have only met the boy briefly, I have no idea what to do with his curiosity, but he leaves me be to return to his role as storyteller.

"There's a nice spot to sit under the big tree in front of my house, if you'd like... Iyla."

She nods at him to proceed and he smiles gratefully when I loosen my cloak to toss it over his narrow shoulders. The morning is cool and his nightwear and bare feet provide no warmth.

"Thank you, Mulan."

I acknowledge his words with a nod as we go to the massive tree and make ourselves comfortable there in the rising dawn. After thinking, his face moving through a variety of expressions, Henry smiles, looking so very much like his parents, no matter that Regina had no hand in his physical making.

"Well, you see, it all started with a book..."

 

++ Regina ++

I heard the smooth voice too, a presence pushing against my mind, testing the strength of my will and magic. It had taken a conscious effort to not push back, to not call up the whirlwind of sorcery and let it darken in menace to the threat. And still, I had let Henry go, remained clinging to the frame of the front door until my hands hurt, staring into the rising dawn and forcing myself to not get involved. Snow leans against me in comfort while David trots to the end of the walk and stares out towards the chaos.

When Emma appears at the end of the brick walk, back arched as though stretching and the sword sticking away from his hand at a ridiculous angle, I cannot stifle the strangled sob laced with absurd humor. He looks ridiculous and the whisper-thin boxers are doing little to cover up his half-hard assets in the morning coolness.

"Too much information," Snow grouses and my sobbing laugh bubbles free with the tears streaming down my face.

Only when I meet my beloved's embrace at the edge of the porch do I feel grounded once more. We are nearer in height with my standing on the single brick step and I can cling to his neck, face and fingers in the sunny gold hair. Murmuring soothingly, Emma strokes big hands over me, his own voice and body trembling too.

"Come inside where it's warmer."

Blindly, we obey David's gentle prompting, all of us jerking to a halt as Emma steps up onto the porch and lurches to the side with a pained hiss. "Ouch, dammit. I think I ran my feet to shreds. Help me to the steps, David."

When I kneel around the awkward bulk of Lily, I see that Emma's bare feet are filthy and battered, streaked with caked blood. My own stress vanishes in the need to help those I have come to love and the tension melts out of Emma's big body as magic flows from me to him. When Snow hands me a wet washcloth to clean up, there isn't a mark on him any longer. It's another revelation, the instant, selfless reaction to my lover's pain, the pure magic of healing his hurt. This too shakes me and I welcome the silent offer of solace his open arms and soft eyes offer.

"Thank you."

The gentle murmur makes me cry all over again, but I relish the feel of these tears, the cleansing ones that burn, but leave me calmed.

I'm still shaken by the appearance of the dragon. Oh certainly, she is just one more entity who wants me dead for past sins. I'm resigned to that. But she is a reminder of Maleficent, once the only friend I had, and one more of those few friends and loved ones I betrayed. But these moments gradually have become just a little bit easier with time and practice.

And love.

Squirming around in Emma's lap, I cup my hand around the back of his head to draw him down, kissing him adoringly. "Thank you, My Heart."

That devastating smile, one of those few things he kept from the woman he was before, makes me smile back helplessly as it does every time since falling for him. 

"You've never called me that before," he whispers softly, almost shyly, and I kiss him lingeringly.

"It's true. For too long I did not respect them enough, treated them like weapons or something to hold hostage. Until I gave you mine."

 

++ Iyla ++

(6-25-13)

The boy, Henry, will be a gifted storyteller with practice. In only a day, he has covered the rough basics of the complicated tale of this strange village and its people. Even with my long-- and yes, lonely-- years, I am fascinated. He walks with me, Mulan his vigilant shadow, telling me of his home and how it has changed. He knows most of what has happened to these unusual people and their mix of memories, real and cursed. Before turning in for the night, he warily handed over his precious storybook for me to read for clarification, as well a picture of a beautiful woman with sunshine hair who the surly knight had once been.

I'd read the entire night by the glow of the fading full moon, my sensitive eyes more than capable of making out the words. Much more about Henry's tales makes sense now with the additional details provided by these 'fairy tales'. Though I am disconcerted by knowing that we are little more than children's stories in the world he was born to. The story of Red Riding Hood made me realize that the dark shadow prowling about, bristling with protective menace, must be she. Fascinating.

There is real magic hiding in this collection of leather and paper, a quiescent hum against my perceptions. Have any of the others sensed it? It feels faintly familiar somehow, though even I cannot place it exactly. Like Regina herself, it is a haze of good and evil. It nags quietly at me, that mystery, and I open the battered cover again, spotting something in the early morning light I had not noticed before. A child's words, scrawled on a patch of open background, the words obviously new in their blackness.

"We'll be Friends Forever, won't we, Pooh?" asked Piglet.  
"Even longer," Pooh answered. *  
This will be you and me, Piglet. And someday I will read you all of the words until you can read them back to me, ok?

Startled, I realize that these words are meant for Henry's coming sibling and I feel as though I have accidently tread where I should have not strayed.

"I'd offer you a cup of coffee," comes a voice I recognize, startling me from my contemplation and I raise my eyes to watch the Knight lean negligently against the white house. "But you don't seem to drink, or eat, or sleep for that matter."

Eyeing the handsome fellow with his disheveled hair and nondescript clothing, one would never guess the role he… she has played for so many. Inclining my head, I find myself smiling faintly, inexplicably liking this knight, despite myself.

"Yes, I require little of those things, but perhaps some company then?"

The offer surprises us both, but after a moment he nods and strides over to the wooden table where I have been reading.

"Henry's book. Huh. That's quite a sign of trust that he handed that over."

"Yes, I could sense that by how he clung to it and after reading the tales within, I understand much more, Savior."

The title earns an odd ripple of reaction over the bearded face, a mix of emotions about his heritage long before her birth. Thick fingers reach out to gently pick up the picture of the woman he had once been, tracing over the face frozen there.

"Pictures always startle me, even now. Probably always will. This got comfortable very quickly and sometimes I almost forget who I was before I took a hand in my own destiny." A sudden grin warms his melancholy face. "And Hook's by accident, though she seems happy enough."

 

++ Emma ++

Flipping through the familiar pages, I'm struck suddenly by a realization. I haven't looked at the book since the curse broke and the characters within remembered who they were. The paintings printed on these pages really are my friends and family. Regina, dark and ominous, threatening my parents at their wedding, a smiling Ruby in her trademark cloak of blood red, Archie, choosing to be a cricket, Blue as her diminutive, winged self.

And my tiny, infant self, cradled in my wounded father's arms, thrust into the damn wardrobe that sent me away to await my destiny.

The splat of a tear to the page startles me and I rub it away before doing the same to the ones clinging to my eyelashes.

"It's hard to realize, even now, that this is all real."

I can't look at the dragon, but something ephemeral eases in the space between us. Turning the pages again, I spot more familiarity in the illustrations, until I pause on the one I was subconsciously looking for. Spinning the book, I point to the shadowy form of the dragon there, the curves of her distinctive horns highlighted by the glow of her own fire. We both ignore the long length of sword so obvious in the foreground, though I remember the feel of it in my hand quite clearly.

"I'm really sorry about your friend, y'know. At the time, it never occurred to me that she was a… person. It really didn't. And I had to save Henry and Rumple made sure that I was once more manipulated into doing what others wanted of me. It was also the first time I worked with Regina. Really worked with her. I think that's when things sorta started to change."

The silence is thick and when I finally look up, there is a riot of emotions I hadn't expected in the silvery eyes.

"Maleficent was not my… friend." The dragon doesn't even seem to be able to really say the word much less understand it and I can't help but smile a little sadly. I know how that feels. "She was merely one of my own and we are few. I fear I may be one of the last. Hence, my… confrontational arrival."

It takes some effort to not scoff at the understatement and we share a weirdly commiserating look.

"Well, you made a friend yesterday."

The wry look, one pale brow arched expressively, makes me laugh.

"Not me, not yet anyway, but the kid. Treat him right and this community will be okay with you. But you understand that I'll be leery for a bit, for the sake of my loved ones."

A smile plays around the woman's mouth, making her completely un-dragon-like for the moment.

"That is fair, Knight."

 

*-A. A. Milne (Winnie-The-Pooh)


	35. Beta Testing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Mulan dance around each other and a dragon begins to learn more about Storybrooke. Ghosts bring more messages and more emotional wounds begin to heal. Busy days....

++ Ruby ++

Only the coming light of dawn finally knocked me out, despite my stress over the immensely powerful stranger in my territory. I have no doubt the dragon has been aware of me this entire time and is perfectly capable of squashing me should she want to, but she had simply sat there and read the book all night. I'm jittery and exhausted with nerves and Wolfstime and far too little sleep, not to mention the chaos I accidentally caused last night with the horses. God, I could have killed Regina and Killian and… and Lily. The idea almost chokes me, my throat thick with repressed tears and regret once more heavy on my soul. 

Not anxious to get up and moving yet, I laze in the shade of an overgrown evergreen in the Mills-Swan's backyard and wallow in my misery.

"You are one who changes with the moon's full face."

Not Emma or the silky-voiced dragon, but the new beta I have to learn to get along with. Peeling open a weary eye, I note that Mulan is still in her armor, the thick stuff doing its secondary job of making her appear larger and more menacing, but I can smell her anxiety.

"Emma did not mention this."

The trace of annoyance makes me huff humorlessly and sit up. "Yeah, well, the Charming Clan is good at accepting me for what I am and that includes the werewolf thing."

"I meant no offense."

The quiet statement registers through the nerve-buzzing stretch of stiff muscles that I'm currently engaged in, ending in my standing up and leaning back to unknot my back. Man, I am a mess and would just about give up a kidney for a long, hot bath right about now…

There is something quiet and respectful in Mulan's gaze, lingering at the edge of her calm words. She also sounds nervous and it gives me an animal thrill. She's clearly a badass in her own right, the trick with the horses and the respect of Snow and Emma is proof enough for me. But I'm no slouch either, and not just during Wolfstime! Granny's been drilling me for two different lifetimes and I can hold my own with pretty much anyone and anything.

Stance relaxed and arrogant, thumbs in my back pockets like Emma used to in her small, sleek form, I regard Mulan, watching the dark eyes.

"Okay then, no offense taken. And this Wolfstime was a bad one. Not always the case."

As much as I hate explaining myself to this stranger, it feels right. But we're awkward now, two strangers forced into a position of psychological intimacy and Wolfstime still lies heavily on me. Scrubbing my hands over my face, I strive for clarity through all the chaos brought to the forefront these three nights every month.

"I should go," I find myself explaining lamely and gesture at the house. "Let everyone know I'm okay, help with breakfast. You know…"

Mulan nods silently as I walk away, but I can feel the pressure of her gaze and find it… disconcerting. 

 

++ Mulan ++

"She does not like me."

The complaint sounds petulant even to my own ears and I flinch faintly at Aurora's small chuckle. Stepping out of the thinning shadows around the house, she saunters over, looking so much more at ease than she has in a very long time.

"She does not know you. Be patient. You are more likeable than you give yourself credit for."

The bump of her shoulder is a friendly gesture, the loose grip on her fingers on mine even more so. Standing close, far closer than I allow most, Aurora watches me with quiet blue eyes as the morning warms around us.

"I have… missed you."

The words fall from my mouth with no input from my brain and she smiles even as I try not to fight the sentiment that made me say it in the first place. Leaning into my shoulder in a half-embrace, she remains silent for long moments, resting her cheek against the heavy leather that protects me.

"I've missed you too."

More moments pass before she senses that discomfort is drawing near and she straightens up with a warm smile.

"Are you enjoying being here?"

Am I? There are many layers to answering the question and I search for words.

"Being part of a community again is welcome, but… unnerving. Loud and chaotic at best. And that insane world they came from. Madness."

"Yes, I agree. Much of what Snow rambles on about are things I barely understand about this community and where they came from. But we're both learning."

"Breakfast!" Henry suddenly yells from the house and we look over to see him wave happily at Iyla. The dragon pauses in clear confusion for a moment before returning the gesture and gathers up the book to move to join the boy.

"Shall we?" I invite my friend and she giggles and keeps her loose grip on my arm, shifting to walk at my side.

"Indeed! I must say that the eating here has been a blessing."

"That I can easily agree with."

 

++ Granny ++

"Not looking forward to this conversation," I grouse irritably and the Mother Superior gives me a wan smile.

"Nor am I, old friend. But putting this off will only make it worse I suppose."

We fall into a quiet only made uncomfortable by our own thoughts, not the company. I'd figured months ago there was something more than just mojo meetings going on with her and the happy odd couple on Mifflin Street. Oh, no one says a thing-- if for no other reason than Henry is far too smart for his own good-- but because we're all needing to find any scrap of happy we can get.

The rattle of the police cruiser's abused old engine brings our attention around and it slides to a halt at the curb near our feet. For just a moment I'm struck by the weirdness of this spot of completely false normalcy. The hum of air conditioning, the uniformity of parking lot and concrete sidewalk, the green shrubbery and healthy green grass. But this small-town Americana really only exists in this narrow band around the hospital now, a perimeter of sterility. 

"I'm so sorry you had to wait, there was…"

"David, it's okay," I reassure the lad and yank open the passenger door to hand Blue in. She winces and grits her teeth, but doesn't make a sound, staring straight out the window. Feeling every one of my long years, I climb into the back and relax with a sigh. "We've both been grounded. Think you can take us to the house? I'd like to check in with the pack and Blue needs some company."

"Of course."

Blissfully, he doesn't yammer at us during the short drive and we arrive shortly. Dashing around the passenger side, David agonizes over which of us to help and I wave him off to Blue after accepting a hand up to get to my aching feet. The instant we walk through the door Snow, ensconced on the couch, lights up with delight and then horror, but obeys my imperiously raised hand. The happy breakfast goes silent as we come into view.

"I've been grounded for overworking and Blue here got caught in some falling debris. We'll live. Who the hell is that?"

The stranger is striking and I realize with a start that this must be the damn dragon everyone was talking about! What is she doing here?

To my astonishment, Emma bursts out laughing and stands to gently press Blue into his seat. "Man, have I missed that glare. Granny, we've come to an accord and everything's cool. This is Iyla, one of the last dragons and Henry's new bestie. Iyla, Eugenia Lucas, one of our respected elders and warriors."

Any response I might have had a chance to make is halted by a terrified-looking Ruby squeezing me in a bear hug.

"It's all right, child, I just overreached my limits. Much as I hate it, I have to take it easy for a bit before something happens to me."

From my embrace I see Regina quietly stroke over the plaster cast holding Blue's left arm rigid to help her broken bones heal and the woman's face immediately begins to clear.

"Thank you, Regina. You're getting very good at that."

 

++ Blue ++

I have learned much about being human, some of it right here in this house. But the constant, throbbing agony I have been suffering from has been a lesson I could have done without. I'm fairly certain that Emma did introductions for me to the stranger that must be the dragon, but little of it registered. The partial relief from Regina's healing of the broken bone in my arm and the damage to my head had been drugging. And the sensations were all the more acute when coupled with my bone-deep weariness. After too many weeks of pushing ourselves far too hard, the scaffolding collapse that had caught me had resulted in a minor concussion and the worst night sleep I have ever experienced. Being constantly woken from already poor sleep was awful.

Woozily, I am returning now from a long, black nap, the sounds of the Mifflin house quiet around me.

"Are you feeling any better now?"

Peeling open a sticky eye, I regard the owner of the unknown voice. Dimly recognizing the girl as Aurora, Snow and Emma's friend from their unexpected trip here, I smile faintly and stiffly try and sit up. Not a wise move.

"Yes, thank you. The night of observation for my head injury was debilitating. Even now, I forget how something as simple as sleep and eating regularly can make me feel."

Her quick hands assist me by bracing my injured arm in its immobilizing shell while I manage to squirm around enough to be a bit more comfortable. Thankfully, the pack here has a very comfortable couch. Far more comfortable than my own, stark quarters given to me by the Curse. Once settled and relaxed, I note the confusion on Aurora's face.

"Many of us here did not start out human, but became so with the casting of the curse," I explain quietly and note the arrival of Henry and the unfamiliar woman from breakfast.

"Oh? Now you have me curious."

Before I can answer Aurora, the stranger has spoken up quietly. "Reul Ghorm. I never would have recognized you. But Henry's book has been most enlightening."

No one misses the thrum of menace in her voice and Henry looks quite alarmed. A hum of sound alerts me that Snow is sleeping soundly on the other end of the couch and has reacted subconsciously to the change in the room.

"Do I know you?"

"No," the woman answers, silvery eyes flickering from me to Snow and back and forth. With quick flash of visible irritation, she relaxes and takes a seat nearby to regard us imperiously. Henry, clearly frightened and confused, gravitates to his sleeping grandmother. "Not personally." With visible effort and a long glance at the boy, the woman relaxes further. "I'm sorry Henry, I did not mean to be threatening. I have never been happy with my people's role amidst the other intelligent peoples."

"Your people?" Aurora parrots uncertainly and flinches from a sharp look.

"Why, my dear, I'm a dragon of course, whose sole purpose is to lie low, terrorize the population and to be slain by heroes."

Abruptly, I remember more of Aurora's tale, both my own memories and the version that other world knew and reel from the terribly familiar confusion of my two selves clashing.

 

++ Aurora ++

The cold trickle of fear down my spine is real, remembering how Maleficent had once terrorized my family so. How I wish Mulan were here…

"My kingdom did not deserve what she did to us," I hear myself say, fear and anger making my voice shake. For a long moment, cold silver eyes merely watch me before the dragon nods regally.

"Dragons are notoriously prideful creatures. Worse has happened for similar reasons. Only the wisest among us let that sort of behavior go. One thing that Henry's book depicts with devastating accuracy is warning the reader that magic always comes with a price."

The pale head nods at the wounded woman brought in with Granny who I have yet to officially meet and there is suddenly a grave and devastating loneliness in the silver eyes. "Sometimes, even the purest and most well-intentioned of magics. A price need not always come from darkness."

For drawn-out heartbeats, a thick quiet hangs over the room before Snow suddenly wakes with an undignified sound, startling the rest of us. "Oh, Henry. Hello Sweetie, could you give me a hand?"

Most of the tension evaporates in an instant, the dragon sweeping to her feet to follow the boy once more as he assists his grandmother and I am left with the stranger with two names.

"I've found myself wondering if the very existence of my own kind, the Good Fairies," the bitter note in the woman's voice startles me, "haven't created the very evil we despise."

My expression must show my confusion, for she takes a deep breath and clearly gathers her thoughts.

"The universe is not unlike a set of scales. Where there is good, there is evil. If one becomes unbalances, forces far greater than any living thing will balance things one way or the other. Back in time, things were peaceful after the Ogre Wars as the scales slowly shifted, but they went too far. I can't help but wonder if Rumpelstiltskin madness in beginning the curse was not a part of that."

Sighing heavily, she reaches up to rub her forehead, hissing in pain from the bruises staining her skin.

"How can someone as powerful and manipulative as myself not have forced the very nature of existence to create something like the Dark One?"

Now, this woman is a complete stranger and I don't entirely understand who she is, but I hate to see someone berate themselves perhaps unduly. The uncomfortable silence that has fallen makes me squirm, barely able to even look at this stranger. "It's not all bad," I finally say hesitantly. "My aunties were lovely women. It was little matter to me that they were fairies. I love them just the same."

The brown eyes are startled when she stares at me as though really seeing me for the first time.

"Flora, Fauna and Merryweather," I explain with a growing smile. "They were as doting to me as my mother."

There is a flicker of recognition in the brown eyes, a far memory obviously returning to her. "They followed Maleficent… east, yes?"

"Exactly. My kingdom lies east. Mulan's even further east. It is how we were left behind when the curse was cast."

 

++ Regina ++

(6-29-13)

The muttering and twitching has woken me, blinking in the rosy light of dawn. The baby is quiet today and my stomach settled, so I painstakingly shift my weight around to drape myself along Emma's side. It delights me how my touch calms him, even though the worried line between his brows remains puckered with his agitated dreaming. Trailing my hand over the bare plains of his powerful torso, I relish the smooth warmth of his skin, the dusting of soft hairs, the muscles beneath.

And the steady beat of that amazing heart.

There are some days I almost wish I could remove his heart, only to look on it and marvel for a moment. There must be something miraculous about it. How could there not be?

Mother could not remove it. I would not have believed that to even be possible. 

Emma's lips are still twitching as though he's muttering to himself. I can almost make out the words, but they are still elusive. Trailing my touch over his clavicles and throat, I tickle at the beard-- growing shaggy again-- and trace the shape of his well-formed mouth.

Squirming upward a bit, I tuck my nose to his temple, breathing in the scent of his hair, feeling his fingers twitch against my thighs. This sweet soul, healed by the change that would have broken many people's sanity, has been my solace and sanity for a long time and I really want to be the same for him.

"Emma," I breathe out, almost soundless. Blindly, I caress over his strong nose and over the deeply wrinkled brow, smoothing the tell-tale emotion there. "Darling?"

Something that might be some broken declaration of love garbles in his mouth before he wakes with a jerk. Green eyes are hazy and intense as he leans back to focus on my soft smile. "Gina," he slurs and I'm happy to be drawn tight to his body as he rolls to his side and hugs me close. Since he's not upset exactly, I simply hug him back as best I can around the bulk of the baby. Right on cue she starts to squirm, a sensation I will never get over. "Hey baby girl," Emma murmurs, moving his arm to caress our child.

"Ugh," I complain and wiggle away. "Stay put, you."

While part of me is horrified at the toilet seat and board over a bucket of sawdust, it's what everyone in town is doing and I'll do the same. At least it's surprisingly effective and I've been assured will make fantastic compost in time. Disgusting, but at least the plants will benefit. Baby-squashed bladder emptied, I waddle back and gravitate to Em's side. He's sat up and conflict is written all over him, the hunch of his spine and the long fingers in his shaggy hair.

"Hey," I greet him, imperiously straddling his lap when he uncoils enough to look up. These sorts of feats of athleticism aren't easy any more, but I can manage this one. "What's eating you, my handsome lion?"

That makes him chuckle and drape his arms around my waist while I do the same over wide shoulders. I buy some patience by pressing affectionate kisses over forehead and brow and cheekbones to earn more faint smiles.

"I didn't used to believe in ghosts," Emma finally says quietly and I lean back to study his pensive face.

"Ghosts?"

"Yeah, the second night we were here, I had... visitors. More proof of my weird magic I guess. They've been back every night."

"Is that why you've been so preoccupied?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry about that, love. I just didn't really believe it, y'know?"

 

++ Emma ++

I have no idea how she's going to react. The only people she had ever loved before Henry came into her life taking up residence in my dreams is freaky even for Fairytale Land. Almost feeling their presences, even here in the daylight world, I find myself talking.

"He was an ugly foal, spindly and with one strangely lazy eye. But he knew in an instant that there was greatness there. No one ever knew who his sire was since he was the same color and conformation as his dam, but he must have been some stallion. They agreed to keep the spindly foal tucked away for a couple weeks if they could, to see if his instincts were accurate, and sure enough, he was stronger and feistier within a week."

The expressive dark eyes, richer than any chocolate or other delicacy, are wide in her lovely face, but I press on.

"They were thrilled at the look on your face when you saw him, both of you gawky and just at the edge of true greatness and beauty."

"Daddy," she whispers. "Daniel. Rocinante."

Her expression is a complicated riot of emotions, good and bad. My nod only deepens the conflict, and my grip around her stops any chance of escape. "They came to me because they still love you. They've told me. Extensively. Exhaustively even. How you hated wearing shoes as a child, how there was that one time you managed to somehow get on the roof, how you got that scar on your lip. Yeah, your father went just that ashen too."

The story had left me speechless in horror, a tale I will never repeat of my own free will, but somehow I feel better knowing only because it gives me a window on this layered, complex woman I adore.

"How shy you were, a clumsy teenager who grew up alongside that horse you loved like a brother. How love took so long to break though rank and fear and just plain nervousness. Something about a flying tumble into a creek?"

Despite all of the conflicting emotions, a sweetly embarrassed flush creeps over Regina's face and inches down to her collarbones. And despite my own conflicts, I can't stop the delighted smile. 

"Yeah, he had that same expression. It's sweet."

Breathing deeply, Regina struggles with herself for a long moment before she somewhat stiffly leans in to press her forehead to mine. "They... they were the only ones to ever truly love me. Losing Daniel was the start of my downfall. And I… I killed Daddy and Rocinante."

Her tears burst loose with a great, heaving wail of a lifetime of agony, of hurts she has never allowed herself to release. Holding her shuddering, clinging body, being her anchor in the emotional storm, makes me feel more like a hero than anything else has before.

I don't shush her or try to make her feel better, don't whisper platitudes in her ear. None of that will ease the agony she has been through in a very dark life. I just hold her, the tenderness of my touch the best balm I have to offer.

 

++ David ++

The phone call had surprised me, an uncharacteristic begging for a day off and would I cover for him? Of course I agreed, despite being as worn out and sleep deprived as anyone else in this town. Emma has worked like a crazy person for many long months and the stress in his voice had been telling.

It's dark now and Storybrooke has settled into our new routine of quiet repose with the rhythms of the sun. So far, the technique has worked to not draw undue attention from the prowling ogres who half the time stomp right past our makeshift walls of fallen and stripped trees. Thank goodness the monsters aren't bright.

Dismounting from the gelding I've claimed as my own, I strip him of his tack and send him into the shadowy depths of the backyard with an affectionate slap to the rump. It's been a blessing to return to the familiarity of the saddle and not that rattletrap of a car when I can avoid it. Stashing the tack in the garage, I ensure there is fresh water and a few mouthfuls of grain out and happily retreat to the house that has inexplicably become home. The irony of the living situation continues to baffle me.

The house is as quiet and dark as I expected it to be, with one notable exception. My grown child, staring pensively into the fire in the living room, tension in the lines of his body, no matter that the pose is languid. The half-empty bottle of something amber and expensive-looking startles me even more.

"You okay, Emma?"

For a moment, several odd expressions flit over the handsome face and I'm struck with memories of the daughter he had once been. It's become a fairly rare occurrence and accept the bottle when he leans over to grab it and hold it out to me. Whatever it is, it burns like fire and I barely manage to not choke on it. My muttered cussing makes Emma smile faintly and pat the cushion next to him. For long, quiet minutes we merely sit in silence only made uncomfortable by the roil of emotions desperately wanting out of my grown child.

When he finally starts unloading, I'm far from prepared for the load.

It's a lot to take in, snippets of the past where she felt so lonely and unloved, fractured impressions of a life so irrevocably changed at the appearance of the son she gave up a decade before. He rambles on about some little things about learning to be in this different body, this changed life, of falling in love with someone once hated, of learning to be part of family and community. And then caps off the emotional unloading with a scoff of disbelieving humor about telling me about the ghosts of Regina's father and first love living in his dreams.

"And the irony?" he starts to wind down, rubbing hard at his face and finally smiling for real, thin as the expression is. "It's a good thing, y'know? Got some more demons exorcized and old wounds cleared out more." The green eyes, so like her/his mother's and passed on to Henry, are washed out grey and orange in the firelight when he finally looks at me fully. "It gets hard to watch her hurt, even knowing who she once was."

"That's love," I hear myself say and accept the wry look. "Look, I'm not dropping platitudes here, Emma. Feeling for those you love is part of it, I know. And you've done some amazing things with your new family and this community and yourself."

"Thanks David," he sighs, eyes finally beginning to droop in exhaustion. "Dad."

Warmed by the sleepy mumble, I manage to get him to weary feet and up the stairs to the master bedroom where Regina startles away and watches from the shadows as I pour Emma into the bed beside her. "Goodnight you three," I whisper and retreat to my wife and growing children.

 

++ Regina ++

(6-30-13)

When I wake curled against Emma's bulk, it is a balm to me as always. His solid warmth is a lifeline, an anchor when things get to be too much for me. He's sleeping more quietly than I've been accustomed to lately and he smells like the morning after. Thankfully my stomach seems to be willing to ignore the stink for now and I can resettle lower on his body, head just below the rise of his chest.

So much still chases through my mind. Ghosts. That Daddy and Daniel are still watching over me is a blessing and yet terrifying. All of the monstrous things that I've done… How can they still love me? Yet… half rising up on an elbow, I stare at Emma's face, tracing the now-familiar features, once such a visceral shock after his transformation. And yet… he has come to love me. This scarred soul with so much reason to despise me, and does not.

It is a rare moment when that is not on my mind.

Carefully shifting away, I go for the toilet and then a large glass of water and a couple of aspirin, knowing they will be needed. Right on cue, Emma moans to life, reaching up to clutch what must be an aching skull. I quickly wet a washcloth and return to his side.

"Sit up, darling, and drink some water. It will help."

Despite my being much smaller, I can still help leverage him half upright and get the glass in his hands. "God, that was stupid. Sorry, sweetheart."

Warmed by the casual endearment, I only kiss his head and rub his neck once he takes the aspirin and water. "I understand. Yesterday was hard. But thank you so much for acting as emissary on my behalf. I means so much to me."

Setting the glass aside, he turns to embrace me fully and I relish the warmth of him, the tickle of his beard and breath on my skin. "My pleasure. The weirdness I get dragged into constantly is easier when I'm not doing it alone."

"Likewise."

For a long time, we just the let the world carry on without us. But eventually Emma pulls away to clean up and I decide to wait on getting something to eat for a bit more time with him. I've nearly dozed off again-- I sleep so much now-- when a gentle touch stirs me.

"Hey lover," Emma purrs softly, pressing kisses to my cheek and neck. With a little wiggling around, we can cuddle in the big bed as home and town begin stirring to life around us. "My dreams were notably absent last night."

Somehow, the quiet statement does not surprise me and I cling closer to him. "I had wondered if perhaps their… reason for being here hadn't passed."

Oh how knowing they still loved me has eased something inside of me. For all that I have loved again, nothing can compare to the feelings held for my father and the first time I gave my heart up of my own choice. The visits of those ghosts through this new love is a gift that no one, perhaps not even myself, will ever truly know the magnitude of.

Emma smiles when I rise up to kiss him lingeringly, the green eyes paling with adoration and sudden interest. "Do you think I might thank you, Savior?"

"Indeed, your Highness," he chuckles and there are no more words needed between us for some time.


	36. Community Spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Fourth of July is a great excuse for a party, but Storybrooke knows that the celebration is likely to be a short one. 
> 
> Emma keeps a promise to Henry and Regina gets to reconnect with an old friend.

++ Killian ++

(7-4-13)

This comedy of errors is worth the hollering that I'm certain to receive from Granny. We're down to only four of the dwarves due to repeated dunkings in the cold water and a broken finger, though the Charming men seem to be holding their own.

Cupping my hands around my mouth, I holler across the stretch of water between the shore and the monstrosity being erected a few hundred feet out. "Would it help if I retrieved the Jolly Roger from her new life as a fishing vessel and got out to push?"

Even from this distance, I laugh at the rude gesture Emma throws my way. I don't mind at all helping with their supposedly clandestine plans, but I'll damned if I don't give them some hell for it. Leaving my now very familiar seat at the reins of the clattering piecemeal wagon, I take the long way around to stroke and pat each of the four mares that seem as much an extension of me as my ship once was. They seem to be in good spirits and calm in their elaborate traces, so I trot around to the back and beginning shoving out the load I've brought for the lads. As loathe as some part of me wants to admit it, the modern prosthetic is far more useful than the curved weapon I'd once wielded with such foolish pride. It served its purpose and was set aside in lieu of this new life. Even if I do keep it hanging above my bed now in memory of my past.

Happy to be rid of the stinking load I've been carting about all afternoon, I toss down the rope that had been trussing the load as well, figuring they might need it. Really, the stench of the fuel that powers their vehicles is horrid and I for one will be quite happy when it runs out. The plastic barrels may be empty, but the smell will never fade.

Two skiffs are zipping over to the shore now, eager to collect the booty I've brought them. This is a nice spot, a quiet and open field left almost completely unscathed by the drastic changes done to Storybrooke. Even I can understand the need for a recreation space for a large population in such tight quarters. Children race about here and there and distant smells of cooking at the far edges of the open space waft through the hot air.

"Gonna be a hell of a party!" The enthusiasm is from Leroy, whom I grin at, having gotten to be friends with the sturdy little grouch over time and familiarity. "You wanna come see what we've done?"

It's tempting, the allure of skipping over the water in even his undignified little dingy, but I shake my head. There will be no more sailings for this old pirate. That time and that life has passed with the change wrought on me. Mostly, I'm resigned to that and shake my head. "I'll suffice with being a member of the audience. Do you think this will be enough to complete your odd project?"

Mulan mans the second skiff, not in her out-of-place armor and looking so very normal in baggy cargo shorts and a loose top over a tank straight from Emma's old wardrobe. She's an interesting enigma, this woman, with her exotic good looks and quiet, stoic demeanor. In my past life, I would have loved to have had her on my crew, not for the obvious, but because of that sharp gaze and well-honed battle skills.

"Well, he hasn't drowned himself yet," Ruby's voice suddenly at my elbow only makes me startle a bit. "I suppose that's a good omen so far." 

"It's early," Leroy laughs and Mulan looks torn between wanting to glare or chuckle. That one needs a good lightening up, some fun and flirting in her life, possibly even-- what's the charming local term-- getting laid. But it won't be me that takes a swing at thawing out that stoic exterior. She has met and discounted me as someone of minimal consequence and I'm far from offended. That one's walls are too much work for this old pirate. However, I do happen to be companions with a lovely werewolf who could be an interesting match…

To cover the sudden mischievous thoughts in my head, I rub my chin thoughtfully as Mulan and Leroy load their boats with their stinking cargo. "You know, one has to wonder how Emma intends to accomplish this fiery feat and not end up in the doctor's clutches."

That's done it, Ruby's gaze sharpening with her wolfish instincts, little matter that the full moon was a week and a half ago. With a quick move, she's gathered up the last of the barrels and the loose rope and called out, "hold up, Leroy, I'm going with you."

There's no mistaking Mulan's sharp look and I swallow a chuckle and see the skiffs off with a wave. Who knows, perhaps I'll be able to be audience to a second fireworks show in the near future, one that has little to do with smoke and fire!

 

++ Ruby ++

Emma hadn't been happy about my taking over the tail end of he and David's pet project, but he knows I'm right. If something goes horribly wrong, his reflexes are still a bit off and he can't swim for shit. Besides, he needs to spend the evening with his little family, same as David does. So the actual project has fallen to me and Mulan, who's already out on the ugly raft of old fuel barrels and scrap wood. Every boat has been taken from the area and the borrowed anchors keep the thing steady at some thousand feet from the shore. It had been a laugh riot watching the group of them tow the mess further from shore once it was done and I'm quite sure Henry learned some new words he better not be stupid enough to repeat.

Bracing myself for the shock of the cold water and quickly swim out to the raft to grab the wood and rub water away from my eyes.

"Why didn't you just bring the boat back?"

Mulan is clearly nonplussed by my arrival and I grin after hauling myself out and flopping out on the sun-warmed boards. "Because I intend on challenging you to a race back to shore later."

The faint chortle of amusement is a pleasant surprise, it being a clearly rare occurrence. "Challenge accepted."

Over the last week, I've been around this enigma a lot, And, despite myself, she's kinda fascinating. No, she hasn't spoken much I probably know more about her royal sidekick, but nonetheless, she is a an interesting, layered personality. She'd matter-of-factly volunteered for this part of the festivities, citing familiarity with them, and no one had argued her inclusion. 

"Okay, let's do this," I enthuse and clamber to my feet, happy to let the warm evening air dry my flimsy summer clothes while I get to work. We double and even triple check all of the connections, the heavy, short lengths of PVC pipe and that we have easy escape routes from all points. Working by lantern light is completely familiar now, all of us easily slipping back into habits we remembered from being natives of this land. Well, everyone but Emma and Henry, though they're doing well enough. Mulan and I quietly agree to how we're going to do this, going over it a couple times while I hum the tunes I know will soon be carrying over the water.

Right on cue, said tune wafts through the thick air and we scramble for the sparklers we'll be using as fuses to play our part. 

Now, technically the Fourth of July means nothing to us, castaways to a land that was never our own, but the memories of our Storybrooke selves are every bit as real as our real ones. Like any tightly-knit small community, we all have memories of celebrations never really had and decided that we needed a party after all that we'd been through. I've already eaten my fill of hotdogs and potato salad and pie and harangued Kil to make sure she kept a plate for Mulan, who has barely left the water all day. That, and a six-pack of beer that I will only share if someone is serious about kissing up. Those are mine, dammit!

With a 'whoosh' of sound, the first ordinance is away. It's louder than I thought it would be and I can't help but flinch and screw up the timing of the first few shots before I get the rhythm of the show. Gouts of colored sparks explode overhead, shower over the boards and barrels from units on the deck, fire off into the distance like canon blasts. It's glorious and dangerous and I love it. No one knows where or how Emma got the fireworks, most of which have to be seriously illegal without some sort of pyrotechnic license, but we're certainly enjoying them!

Utterly euphoric on the danger of the explosives and the prickles of tiny burns on my skin, I laugh and soak it all in, grinning wildly at Mulan as the deck finally catches fire and we dive away to safety. Even underwater I can hear the thunderous retort of the big shells high in the sky as their fuses burn and mentally tally that the big stuff has all been launched while the PVC canons are still intact and pointed skyward. Leaving the rest of it to burn as it will, I swim as far as I can before popping up for air.

"Not fair," I laugh at Mulan, who has gotten further than I and she flashes a grin and sets off for the shore with me hot on her heels.

 

++ Emma ++

I laugh as Ruby clambers out of the dark water right behind Mulan, grabbing the other woman and toppling her back in the water. A moment later Ruby vanishes abruptly from what I assume is a grab to the foot. The horsing around is all the better when Mulan comes up spluttering, her serious face wreathed in a smile and chuckling warmly. Aurora claps in delight at the show, backlit by the burning platform out in the water and the two freeze and exchange self-conscious glances before bowing to the rest of us.

They're understandably embarrassed by the eruption of clapping and laughter, but I'm gratified to see that both are smiling as they join us. Nicolas squawks about getting splashed on as Ruby wrings out her hair as best she can, getting laughter from his twin and Henry both where the pre-teens are all sprawled out. Their dad has been providing me with great entertainment as his fascination with Regina's pregnancy hasn't slacked off with time. If the damn kids ever fall asleep or drift home, I'm giving Michael more shit than he can handle. 

"Be nice," Regina murmurs in amusement where she is curled up all over me and I chuckle while smootching the top her dark head.

"What, are you a mind reader now?"

Smiling coyly, she tilts her head back onto my shoulder and I take the cue to kiss her adoringly. The kids immediately burst into giggles and Michael mutters something about needing a beer. My sniggering laugh is choked only because I don't want too many awkward questions from Henry and his friends.

"Oh stop your snickering and gagging," I mock the trio and nudge at them with bare toes, eliciting waves of giggling protests as they squirm away. The last of the fireworks are sparking and whistling out of the bonfire out on the water, providing distraction so I can return to my attention to my smirking lover.

"Killian said you two can share," I hear Michael's voice say and glance over to see him hand off a heaping plate to Mulan and a dripping six-pack to Ruby. As he sits again, he gives me a long-suffering look and mutters, "you're a tease and I'm single, asshole."

My bellow of laughter startles Snow and several others awake and gets me smacked on the chest as I jostle Regina, who joins me in laughing. 

"If he doesn't get himself home more often," Regina sasses archly. "I may just take you up on the unspoken offer."

The look on his face is priceless and I choke down more laughter, burying my face in her thick hair and shaking with the effort. "Brat," I finally manage to squeak out and can clearly envision her smug smile.

Worn out from the giggle fit, I nearly go off again when I raise my head and see Ruby's wry look, but manage to get a grip and accept the bottle she holds out.

"Not my personal stash, Sasquatch, but it ought to shut you up for awhile."

The seemingly endless flow of hotdogs and burgers of pie and coleslaw and everything one would expect for a Fourth of July celebration is a reminder of how the town continues to restock itself with no input from any of us outside of filling out the proper paperwork. It's the damnest thing too. Fill out a purchase order like you're supposed too and we almost always get it, but no one is willing to implicitly trust a broken curse created by a man known for being a master manipulator. Besides, the reliability of the magical supplies has been steadily getting more erratic and we're all thankful for the fields of food and the well-stocked lake. Only meat will be a problem, what with the ogres out there keeping us from exploring our surroundings for what we might be able to scare up.

Taking a pull off my mostly cold beer, I put aside serious thoughts for just a bit longer and just soak up the welcome slice of peaceful Americana we have this night.

 

++ Regina ++

(7-5-13)

Sleepily coming to, I hear the sound of the shower and smile to myself. How I love it when Emma is close by, his very presence making me feel safe and loved. Moments of peace are a rarity with everything Storybrooke has been through and last night had been a blessing. Spirits should be high today, which is good, because I'm guess those fireworks are a two-edged sword. While they clearly scared off the ogres last night, I'm certain even their tiny little brains are curious.

Tonight will not be pretty or quiet is my best guess. And while I worry for my lover, there is little I can do in my condition and will have to trust in him and those that stand with him.

The date runs through my head and I realize that it has been two weeks back in the Enchanted Forest. Two very long weeks. Things have been so busy that it is all too easy to lose track of time. 

One nice thing about being back home with my newly awakened heart to guide me, is that I can actually use my sorcerous abilities for good now. Oh, understandably, many are still wary-- and I don't blame them-- but no one has any complaints about the extensive public baths and cooking spaces that have running water and even a bit of electric light. Even some of the private water and gas lines are working again, thanks to my bored magical efforts. I'm particularly proud of how the hospital runs with damn near its original efficiency; even the toilets! Having the slowly-mending Reul Ghorm with me the last few days hasn't hurt either.

It's rather interesting to note how the town is morphing around us as people adapt. More and more, the population clusters towards the waterfront as houses and businesses are razed to make room for crops and animals. There are not many animals yet as forays into the forest have been short and close by, but the hunters and trackers have captured a few wild game and barnyard animals gone feral in our absence. The bulk of the fleet of boats survived the transition between worlds and ply the massive lake for fish and other edibles and it's good to know that we'll survive our first winter back in our homeland no matter when the magically restocking food and supplies run out.

The cars were quickly given up, with few exceptions; even my beloved Mercedes. Even if there was fuel enough, few could handle the conditions of the roads now, not that there is much asphalt left. It has been torn up to make space for crops and provide stone-like building blocks. The cars have been torn apart for raw materials and the skeletal remains reinforce the massive fence that keeps out the dangers of the forest around us.

Shockingly, not a single life has been lost since we've come home. At least not among those of us that remained here. There were a few that were over the walls and gone as soon as we arrived. 

All in all, things have gone extremely well.

Before I can get too caught up in the mixed emotions of how I have changed in context to these people, Emma strides out of the bathroom toweling his hair to give me a lovely eyeful of his bare body. "Well good morning, sexy man."

"Now, none of that, lady," he teases and strides over to lean down and kiss me a leisurely good morning. "After all, that's how you got like this in the first place."

"Oh poor me. Now stop showing off and help me up. Really, it's like I have no bladder at all."

"I remember. Come on then!"

While that business is taken care of, I talk with him further through the partially open bathroom door. "You have plans today, I can tell."

 

++ Emma ++

She hadn't meant to sound so put out, I'd stake a kidney on that, but I can hear the note of it. Luckily, unlike the vast majority of the tasks involving the town in the last handful of months, this one she can at least sit in on.

"Actually, I do." Hissing in pain as my too-long hair catches on the hairbrush, I scowl at my reflection. "I'll bribe you if I can get a trim later?"

Chuckling, she rejoins me with a hug. "With pleasure, darling."

"I'm going to go get Henry and David and we're going to rebuild that old firetrap of a play castle. It could get put off indefinitely, but the kids need something to play on in that park, last night showed me that. Would you come play supervisor?"

Sighing heavily, Regina's voice is suddenly thick with regret. "As I had the thing torn down in the first place, yes, I can certainly at least be moral support."

Tilting her chin up, I kiss her sweetly. "He'll be glad you're there. Be ready in about twenty."

Nodding, she moves off and I sigh with all the wishes that I could make these painful moments easier somehow. Quickly yanking my clothes on, I pace around the horseshoe-shaped balcony to tap at Henry's door. He's getting old enough that I'm leery about busting in on him, not to mention I think the twins slept over, but he's got about five seconds to wake up. A head of blonde hair in the bed shows me he was a gentleman and let Ava have the comfy spot and I tap her foot on the way over to crouch over the boys where they're sprawled out in a tangle of bedding on the floor.

"Up and at 'em, troops! We have a busy day ahead."

With much moaning and groaning, the kids are moving, Henry with much more enthusiasm once he knows what the day's plans are. I don't even get on him about cleaning up, because he's gonna get filthy today and I'll chuck him in the lake later. The smell of coffee and bacon and cinnamon rolls draws me to the kitchen where Granny has set up a mini diner that she can preside over with minimum stress and still get half the damn neighborhood fed.

"Mornin' gorgeous," I crow and get the mock scowl I was angling for. Damn, but she's fun to tease.

"Children and the expectant," she says dryly and points to one cluster of travel mugs and then a lonely pair by themselves. "And full octane. There's a couple trays of food for the lot of you in the oven. Just drop the pans in those two baskets and bring them back later."

"Excellent. Appreciated as always, Granny."

"You're welcome. I'll send Ruby over when she wakes up. Since you asked me to let her sleep herself out."

"Gonna be an ugly week of darks with the flare we sent up last night. You get some sleep too, Deadeye. We're going to need you."

She nods and is clearly pleased to be needed. While I know she can't push herself as hard as she'd like, I know better than to keep her too anchored down. This old wolf needs to be useful as much as she needs to breathe.

In a flurry of noise and activity we all come together and surge out to meet David and the ubiquitous white mares who are prancing with eagerness to get their always busy schedule started.

 

++ Regina ++

Fired up with breakfast sandwiches, cinnamon rolls and caffeine, the work crew has made excellent progress as the morning warms around us. I've been tucked under a huge umbrella with a deck chair to preside over the cooler of beverages and snacks. As I would be useless in this physical endeavor even if not pregnant, I'm pleased to be included even this much. 

"Hello Regina," a familiar voice says, startling me into looking up. 

"Kathryn."

Yes, my voice sounds that weak and I can't even hold it against myself. After what I did to her…

"May I sit?"

Completely flustered, I gesture to the lawn chair beside me and notice how she's moving, the extra weight on her willowy frame. "Are you expecting?"

Her lovely face wreathes in smiles, causing me to helplessly smile back. "I am! It took some time and practice, but Fredrick and I managed." The playfully naughty edge to her smile deepens my delight and she reaches out to pat my knee. "Before too long half the women in town will most likely follow suit. A return to the old ways, eh?"

Did she just make a peasant joke at me? Part of me is desperate to giggle even as I feel sheepish about it and I must look like a landed fish. The tinkling laugh is warming, as is the friendly squeeze of her hand.

"Now, I think I've stayed away long enough, Regina. Neither of us is good at this friends thing, but I for one would like to try again. Would you?"

The lump in my throat is choking and the tears stinging, but I manage to choke out an affirmative and grab her hand in a tight grip. "Yes, I would be thrilled, Kathryn."

It is so strange to see her look so pleased by the prospect, squeezing my fingers back. "Excellent. So our first order of business," the wry look on that word makes me giggle helplessly, "is that I've reclaimed my name of Abigail. It feels more natural and allows me to reintegrate more of myself. Will you use it for me?"

As if I could say no to those big blue puppy eyes. "I would be honored. Abigail."

Distancing herself from the curse with something as seemingly simple as a name is surprisingly effective, even in my mind, and she looks completely pleased to hear it. With an ease that leaves me bamboozled, we chat like properly spoiled, pregnant housewives in the shade, getting to know one another under so much better circumstances. Abigail is very different from Kathryn, her aloof, regal nature mellowed by experience, love and the two lives in her head. I find I understand Abigail better, the quirks of behavior that are a sanity saver for most royals and the inevitable political maneuvering that is so much a part of that life. Frankly, she would be intimidating had she not approached me with open arms. 

This completely unexpected and entirely welcome interaction teaches me something else. Everyone else in Storybrooke-- sans Emma, Henry and Killian-- may have two lives in their head, but in some ways, so do I. When mother cursed me, I stopped developing as a person, simply becoming my dark role, a mask over my true self. With the mask torn away, the atrophied young woman left behind and a nightmare morass of memories is what I have been left with became me once more. Sometimes, it's still jarring; I suppose it always will be.

It's shockingly easy to pour all of this out to a calm Abigail and I'm more grateful to her than she'll ever know for this gift.

 

++ Emma ++

Eventually I get sick of my eyes stinging with sweat and call it a day. Besides, as perversely amusing as it might be to watch David and Fredrick dance around each other awkwardly, it's a little cruel too. So I slap down my inner jerk and yell out for the whole motley crew that has been helping.

"Okay, gang, I'm calling it. Thank you for your help, but we're going to have to finish up another day. Now go home and try and get some sleep before dark. We're gonna need it."

As much as I'd like to be positive about tonight, I can't. Every danger sense from a hard life is screaming warning at me and making me jumpy. Regina senses it too, her dark eyes heavy on me as I stride over to give her a kiss and plop down into the grass beside her. Abigail-- Fredrick told us about the name change-- beams at my greeting and I'm thrilled to see that these friends have clearly reconnected, that someone else can see who Regina truly is.

"Come by the house any time," I call out as the other couple leaves, Abigail all smiles for an emotionally moved Regina.

"We will, Emma. That's a promise."

There's a lightness to her stride even I can see as she takes Fredrick's arm and they walk across the park together. When Regina rolls mostly to her side and snuggles up to my shoulder, I'm pleased and hardly surprised. "I'm glad you two connected again," I murmur and nuzzle her hair.

"Me too," is all she can whisper through being a bit emotionally overwhelmed. As I'm perfectly fine taking a long break at her side, I simply let her rest quietly, feeling no need to fill the space with chatter or even coddling unless she wants it. The weight of her head on my shoulder and her hands curled around my upper arm seems to content her just fine. In fact, I think she's falling asleep, breath evening out, her head slipping back to settle in the groove between the chair back and my shoulder where I lean against it. Well I won't be moving any time soon. But it gives me a chance to just sit and be peaceful, a rarity in my life, and I certainly can't complain about the view.

And the park is nice too.

Regina sleeps with the ease of the rescued, completely relaxed under my watchful eye. It's humbling, to be honest. With all the horrors done to and by her, she can somehow still completely give herself over to me. If I wasn't crazy about her, it would scare me to death.

"God, you're a sap," Henry's amused voice reluctantly drags my gaze away from his mother's face and I do my best to not laugh and jostle her awake.

"Oh, shut up you," I grouse mockingly and he makes a goofy face that makes me choke down more amusement. "I am going to give you so much crap when you get a girlfriend."

"Whatever," he mocks back but I think some of the pink around his ears is more than just sun. "Man, she sleeps a lot."

Chuckling, I reach down to stroke Lily's bulk, tickled with a flutter of movement. "This is damn hard work, trust me. Hey, come here and feel. Piglet's squirmy."

Always delighted with interacting with his little sister, Henry settles carefully next to Regina's legs and presses an ear to her belly.

We're still effectively doing the same thing when Killian shows up some time later, though I think Henry is nearly as asleep as his mom by the way they both jerk and blink when I prod them gently. "Let's go home."


	37. Close Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The close calls converge into a brush with death and evil that will be tough to survive. 
> 
> Iyla must decide what her role will be among these strangers who are truly no strangers any longer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dear Readers,
> 
> I do hope everyone is still enjoying themselves thus far! But, alas, the end is in sight. No fear, we still have a bit to go, but I wanted to offer an opportunity. I know beyond a doubt that I have skipped over things all of us would have liked to have seen. So this is your chance to offer me a prompt, a request for something that you would like to see expanded on. No rewrites or anything drastic, but perhaps a small missing scene? This can also include the first year of Lily's young life (which will be the epilog for all intents and purposes). Ideas and prompts can be for any character in this tale and feel free to be creative! Obviously, I make no guarantees that the muses will latch on to an idea, but I do like to offer them treats.
> 
> Thank you in advance!  
> -Shatterpath

++ Ruby ++

(7-8-13)

Three nights.

Three agonizing, stressful, sleepless nights.

We're all so paranoid now that few have slept and we're all getting jumpy and short-tempered. New moon was two days ago and the forest has remained inky, the moon only the tiniest sliver in the sky adding to the paranoia. Even the ogre stink has faded, whisked away by time and the deep, short nights. 

When it finally happens, it's like getting punched in the face mid-yawn. 

With a rumble of footsteps-- too damn many footsteps-- and the fresh stink of them in my nostrils, I scream warning. "They're here!"

Massive, blocky shadows pour from the trees into the open space around the walls we have so painstakingly cleaned and I gawk at the numbers. By anything and everything holy, how many of them are there in the forest now? Panic flashes over our fortifications and gunfire sputters, drowning out the twang of bowstrings and the roar of oil and fuel set afire.

Ogres stumble and scream, but still, they come. Great pounding feet find our traps, sharp caltrops and pitfalls and explosives, but more just run right over the dead and dying. This is what we feared, too many of them at our wall, their massive bodies slamming into the huge fence, their ugly faces close enough to taste the putrid stench of their breath.

Like a wave, the wall shakes, individual trunks swaying and leaning away from the punishment, people falling, screaming from the battlements to the ground below. There is nothing we can do but keep unloading ordinance into this enemy and hope it is enough. For if they break this wall, the devastation will be horrific. The tales of the two Great Ogre Wars ring in my mind as I fire clip after clip of my hunting rifle until the barrel starts to smoke and I take up the bow. All our plans and practice on how we would face this enemy has fallen apart in the face of sheer numbers.

With a crash like thunder, the wall only feet from me falls away and I reflexively whirl to spear an arrow deep in the monster's eye. It's stinking corpse will have to block the hole for now. With no time to fear for the fates of my fallen comrades of Storybrooke, I scoot closer to the broken timbers of the hole, rightly guessing that even the ogre's tiny minds will see a weakness and try to exploit it.

Only the lightening of the sky saves us, it seems.

Like ghosts or nightmares, the ogres fade away from our walls as day approaches and stunned quiet numbs those not wounded or dying.

When a hard hand grabs my arm, I shriek like a femme fatale and nearly rip the offending limb clean off in reflex. Thankfully, Mulan is quicker and just might have expected the violence, something in her stoic expression speaking volumes to the dark places in me.

For a long moment in time, I can only rest my hands on my knees, hang my head and try to remember how to breathe. When Mulan speaks, there is something quiet and deadly in her voice.

"They will return with the night."

All I can do is nod wearily and throw myself into protecting my neighbors and loved ones as best I can.

 

++ Regina ++

(7-16-13)

This is not the legacy I wanted for my children. Days of loneliness and hard work, nights of bleak terror, frightened exhaustion making Lily quiet and Henry hollow-eyed.

The darkness inside of me pulses and slithers as though alive. The touch of that power shocks me with a terror that is mine and mine alone. I have not been that in a long time, changed by freedom and love, the darkness so quiescent that I foolishly thought it had left me. But in the stench of death and decay, the sight of exhausted faces, the wounds, the rosters of dead who had only wanted to come home and begin again; there the darkness finds sustenance. 

The dragon has disappeared, but I can still feel her watching me, an eagle on a poisonous snake, a vulture over the dying. Somehow, that invisible regard helps keep the poisonous part of me just barely subdued.

But I am faltering.

My resolve is exhausted and the evil is a familiar warmth. Yes, Emma and my children weigh me down, but the terror of what might happen to them during this long siege makes that other me snarl and snap to life. And Emma is so tired, I can feel it thrum between us like strumming piano wires, reinforced by the wounded that return to town and the sounds of distant fighting every night.

And the stench.

Oh, the stench.

The reek of decay and smoke chokes the hot air, bringing with it sickness and disheartenment, a reminder of what we cannot escape. 

My poor Emma blames himself, I know he does. As though somehow it is his fault that we went from the nebulous 'what if' of that other world, to the grimy reality of siege warfare here in this enchanted place.

It breaks my heart, makes me ache for my lover, for Henry who has seen things no boy his age should see, for tiny Lily, missing her father as much as I do. But all I can do is stay behind, work in the triage tents and hope my loved ones will be safe.

But somehow I know time is running out.

Like the preparations for returning to this forest and the days following that success, people are running on empty, on adrenaline and desperation and now, fear. Mistakes are getting more and more dire, broken limbs, crippling exhaustion, cracked skulls and rent flesh. We cannot continue this way for much longer.

As the day grows later, darker, the fear grows stronger as once more, knowing the horrors the night will bring.

When the tension snaps suddenly, a rush of pain and agony down the magical bond with my Emma, it is somehow a relief, a rush of dark freedom.

For one I love is in deadly trouble… and the beast within me is loose.

 

++ Emma ++

It seems somehow inevitable.

Too many days of exhaustion in body and soul. Only my heart still beats strong, bound tight to the ones I love.

But it isn't enough.

The crushing blow catches me off guard, agony splintering along flesh and bone as a club like a tree swats me away from the fighting like an insect. What sense is left me is battered away by the ground rising up violently to smash my fall to a halt.

Is this what death feels like?

Half numb and half breathless with pain and regret, my thoughts go to my family as the world seems to slow around me. Henry, Regina, baby Lily who should have been my second chance, the parents and friends I adore.

Of all the stupid ways to die, Swan. You've dodged physical and sexual abuse, survived car accidents and being shot and slaying a freakin' dragon. Only to be clubbed to death by an ogre. My life has turned into a bad punchline.

The gallows humor stops when in my fuzzy vision, my head lolled back at an uncomfortable angle, sees ogres at last smash their way through the wall.

And with that, I have truly failed. 

Weakly, I try to reach out, try to dredge up a last burst of effort to fight them with my last breath, but the effort is feeble. Then something dark and powerful and suffocating erupts over my mind and body and heart even as a great tornado of purple smoke and fire roars to life nearly on top of me.

I have never seen Regina truly out of control before and suddenly, so very many things about how others look at her make sense. This is the timebomb they fear every moment of every day, this frightening creature wearing the face of the woman I love. Screaming incoherently in the roar of the storm that brought her here, every muscles straining, fire gushes from her outstretched hands, lighting up the ogres into pyres of flame and agony. Just lying here, I can feel the heat, making my skin prickle and sweat. A flamethrower set on 'insane', Regina is a storm of violence that I can feel more closely than the cooking flames.

My broken body at her feet, a deadly enemy bearing down with murderous intent. A flashback of some of her darkest points that has reverted her back to something that could destroy her as sure as fire.

Only I can stop this, I know that as surely as I can hear my heartbeat loud in my ears. Digging deep, I force every scrap of will that I have left to move my nearly numb arm, to reach for my other half, to anchor her against the darkness ablaze in her vengeance.

The there is a boom of sound and more fire, Regina crouching almost comically in her pregnant state, her pillar of flame reaching and twisting towards this new threat. We are tiny against the beast that looms over us with teeth and eyes reflecting the violence.

They will kill me, as sure as the ogres club would have and that makes me sad for my beloved far more than the idea of losing my life. She doesn't deserve this. Then, at last, my hand brushes her ankle, the over-warm flesh I know so well and there is another burst of light, sweeping away the smoke and fire like a cleansing wind.

"I love you," I whisper and can no longer fight the darkness.

 

++ Regina ++

It is a jolt that I have never felt before. Powerful and primitive and irresistible, it snuffs out the raging fire, slams me back into the life I have now, not the monstrous existence I once lead.

"Emma," I hear myself gasp into the sudden, ringing quiet and fall to my knees beside him. Like a broken doll thrown by a child, he seems lifeless. "No, no, no…"

Stroking the sweet, bearded face, covered in filth and blood, my agony spirals up in a wail of anguish. No, please not again…

Lily kicks wildly, crushed between our bodies as I lean over to press my cheek to Emma's touch his neck and down to his strong heart, stuttering towards silent.

"Please don't leave me," I beg, knowing I will be broken again without him. "Please, My Heart, please. I love you. Don't make me go on without you, please…"

His lips are smoke and blood and I can barely sense him, feel him through the link we share. That is what my soul cries to, not this broken shell he inhabits, but that powerful soul that defines him, that gave me the boost I needed to become the person I've wanted to be all along.

And it is that soul that reaches back to mine.

A harsh, shuddering breath is the sweetest music, pushing away the last of the purple smoke that had nearly claimed me once more. With reserves low but with a desperation only love could move me to, I reach out gently, feel for his hurts and take away the deadliest. Later I will marvel at how he survived at all, but at this moment all I care about is the wheeze of breath, the tick-tock of his heart and the soul anchor that has saved us both once more.

(7-17-13)

Coming to in a half-lit hospital room is a nasty shock, making me struggle to get away, looking around wildly. Emma in the other bed in the room freezes me in my tracks and I have a moment to take in his appearance even as Henry jerks awake in the chair between us. My lover looks like the bad end of being rolled down a cliff and my son looks completely shattered.

"Oh Henry, come here darling."

Sobbing, he half-crawls onto the bed and into my arms to shake and cry. There might be words in there, broken and incoherent, but I don't ask for clarification or even really try to understand. In this moment, we just need one another's company and that is more than enough.

In time, I notice the quiet presence in the corner of the room, watching her with a sobriety that is almost a glare.

"You came back at an interesting time in this drama," I say flatly and don't have the energy to relish the way the dragon flinches just that tiny bit.

"It was not my place to become involved. To… protect, especially those that may still be my enemies."

"I did. And they've far more reason to hate me than you. If not for this coming child, whose life I have probably endangered no thanks to you, I would have been on the front lines." It hurts to say, knowing how my outburst may have indeed endangered poor Lily, but it has to be said. "Stop hovering and worrying about what I will do and either make yourself a part of this community or go back to your damn mountain, dragon."

 

++ Henry ++

Even though I'm crazy with worry about my folks, I still feel hurt that Iyla really didn't care enough about me and everyone else to help protect us. She really did just stick around to wait for Mom to screw up.

It's a failure that I understand, but wouldn't have put on something like a dragon. And I realize that I really don't know her very well at all. Have I really just been a source of information all this time? Sniffling and sad even more now, I stare at her where she's half hidden in the shadows. I can't see her eyes, but I can feel them, that spooky stare that I'd sorta gotten used to, but not really.

Then, suddenly she nods real firmly and vanishes in a puff of smoke, reminding me of what my mom did out there on the battlefield. Up until then, everything about her past had been a story, with only little peeks at how… real it all is. But now… now I saw her for real, the Evil Queen in all her glory. Except the crazy outfits. That was missing. Oh, and Lily's bulge.

The tornado, smoke and that scary purple magic like it had a mind of its own, was terrifying, making us look like ants and the trees like twigs and the ogres like grubs. There had been fire streaking out like a war movie, screaming and the stink of the ogres burning like candles. People I knew and cared about were tossed around like leaves all over the place, so many of them hurt from all this fighting.

But Emma'd stopped it again, even though he'd almost died right there.

Like my racing mind was a shout, Emma moans and Mom and I both look over, holding our breath. It takes what feels like a long time, but he twitches his head and squints his closed eyes a little bit.

I can't stop the sob any more than Mom can. 

Carefully moving away from her, I drop to my feet and take the half step to the other hospital bed. "Emma? Pops?"

The tiniest little slit of open eye makes me cry harder and he might, just might, be trying for a tiny smile. Really carefully, I put my hands on his arm away from the bandages and smile with relief.

"You saved her again, y'know. And I hope the rest of us too. And we're still together, all four of us. Gramps is ok and Gramma's with him here in the hospital, just to be safe, ok? When I find out what's happened to everyone else, I'll make sure to tell you, ok?"

"Kay," he rasps very softly, opening both eyes about halfway to look at me, then roll his head over just a little bit to look at Mom.

They're still staring at each other when the nurse comes in and calls for the doctor to come and see him.

They want me to leave, really pissed about me being here, but I won't leave Mom. I hide out on the other side of the bed and peer over her to watch the doctors and nurses look over Emma. When he moans in pain a few times as they move parts of his body, it almost feels like they're hurting me and Mom is so tense she feels like she might explode, but neither of us moves an inch.

"You are insanely lucky, Sheriff Swan," the doctor sounds awed. "By all rights, I have no idea how you've survived the night. I suppose we have magic to thank for that."

When he looks at Mom, there's fear there, sure, but there's respect too. He might even be grateful, and that? That's pretty cool.

 

++ Emma ++

(7-19-13)

It's the weirdest sensation. Suddenly, like a lightswitch being thrown, the murky inner world that I've been trapped in suddenly falls away. Blinking to clear my fuzzy eyes, I look around the hospital room, gratified to see Regina dozed out beside me on a cot that crowds the small room. There's a woman I don't recognize in the bed beside me, looking like the bad end of a alleyway mugging. It's a clear illustration of the fuckery this town has been through and fully wakens me from my ordeal.

In some respects, being mostly unconscious was better. I'm so stiff and bedsore I can barely move and there's some stuff goin' on in my body that is giving me uncomfortable flashbacks of the early days of being changed. But I ignore it for a moment to reach out a still-bandaged hand and stroke the back of my knuckles over Regina's cheek. With a start, she awakens, revealing the gorgeous eyes I love as much as the rest of her.

"Hey, hot stuff," I tease with a smile and watch her blink fully awake.

"Emma," she whispers and tears up, laying her hands over mine and immediately scooting as close as she can.

"Thanks for saving my bacon," I murmur, "I know that had to be hard. I love you."

Her face scrunches up in an excess of emotion. "It was all too easy, when I felt you…" her breath catches and she tugs our blended hands to her mouth. "When I felt you starting to fade away. I love you too, so much."

Any further words are suspended when Whale and a couple nurses flood the room with energy and electric light, making my eyes squint and water. None of them are willing to believe that I'm as intact as I really am, understandably wary of letting me up, but the lights flickering as I get irritated finally wins me the day. Sensors are peeled from my skin, needles out of my arm and the catheter nearly makes me wet the damn bed, but I'm finally free to sit up and swing my legs towards the floor. Watching Whale squint uncomfortably as I grip his arm makes me feel just a teeny bit bad about enjoying that and I pat his now-bruised arm once my body decides it's resigned to being mostly upright again.

"Thanks, Doc," I tell Whale sincerely and he startles. No one needs to tell me how hard he's worked for the populace, I can see it just by looking at him, and he deserves some recognition for that. "We'll check in with Doctor Kimba and then get out of your hair. And get some rest when you can. That's an order from the sheriff."

Annoyed and grateful, the man only nods and leaves me with a pair of nurses to keep an eye out as I hobble across the room to use the toilet like a big boy. Despite the burn-- I'll be lucky to get out of this without a plain, mundane UTI-- taking care of such a basic need on my own galvanizes me. When I leave the bathroom, I'm greeted by a tearfully relieved Henry and a very careful hug.

"I'm so glad to see you up," he murmurs into my chest and I ignore my lingering aches and pains to hold him gently. "We were all really scared."

Seated with Regina, Blue nods at me faintly and I'm struck at how exhausted and in pain she looks. Even nowhere near healed up-- her arm is still in a cast for fuck sake-- the woman has been out with everyone else doing her best to defend our town. Man, woman, child; war doesn't give a damn who the hell it hurts or destroys.

Hugging Henry as tight as I'm able to with being so sore, I pet his filthy hair and speak quietly, including everyone in the room. "So was I, son. How's about we go check in on Snow and Charming and then go home? As it's been so quiet, I'm guessing our guardian dragon stuck around and we can get in some R&R."

"That sounds really good, Pops."

 

++ Blue ++

I've slipped away from the warmth of them, the sorely needed balm of the odd niche I hold sometimes with the happy couple. It's foolish to have done so, as that had been the first time in weeks where I had actually felt my guard drop even a little bit. Often I still fight the need to be close to them that overtakes me sometimes, the warm presence of their bodies soothing me. There is no denying the power of something so simple, the connection of belonging, a lesson I have been trying to adhere to. That's what made me squirm away from my comfy place, tucked into Emma's side with Regina's hand resting in the curve of my waist. Another need is calling me, one that few of us would understand as once being creatures of magic.

But it has been a very long time since I have been a creature of magic.

So here I am, stumbling around in the darkness towards the quiet field of battle. The stench of sorcerous fire still hangs heavy in the hot air with the reek of burned flesh and decay. As the damaged wall comes into sight through the lingering smoke, I see small fires and bodies moving about. Even faced with deadly exhaustion and crippling hurts, there are those that still stand ready to defend this town. It warms me to see this. But it is not the defenders of Storybrooke that walk on two legs that I have come to see.

She lies fully in the breach the ogres tore in our wall of tree trunks like a nightmarishly huge cat. Hind legs are tucked to her body, the massive serpentine tail curled close with only the arrowhead shaped tip flicking lazily to show that this is indeed a living creature. The sail-like wings lie along her heavy body, nearly obscuring the spiny plates down her spine.

"Reul Ghorm," Iyla's voice greets me quietly in that strange sensation of speaking into my mind.

"Iyla," I say just as quietly, my voice lost in the night. I've reached the splintered wall, the fresh gouge in the earth where the tree trunks had finally been ripped from their moorings. It feels strange to place my tiny hand on her armored side to keep my balance as I step outside the wall for the first time. The fresh breeze, unencumbered by said wall, blows cleanly over me, a blissful sensation that I inhale deeply of. "Might I join you?"

She lays with arms crossed in an almost scholarly pose, the dramatic head raised to survey the silent forest around us. Moonlight, free to shine clearly away from the smoke and stink, washes over scale and eye alike, dulling the red embers of the glowing fire gills at the back of her jaw. For a moment, there is no response, before she nods. In the silvery moon glow I can see the piles of ash and charred bone in piles where Iyla had efficiently disposed of the ogre's corpses and I have to look away. It is too close a reminder of a mortality I feel so very keenly now, as well as the pains my body has been subjected to.

"You are hurting?"

It is a question, as though the dragon is unsure how to treat my obvious distress. I know how she feels. Nodding, I shift uncomfortably from foot to foot, knowing how foolish it was to walk out here the way I have.

"I have not grown accustomed to this body," I muse as much to myself as companion. "To all of its needs and weaknesses. To be immortal and so powerful for so long was a hubris that left me utterly unprepared for what I am now."

Now the gleaming reptilian eyes are watching me and not the forest. "And what is that?"

"Mostly, just a woman. Until we can explore beyond the boundaries of the curse and find the dwarves diamonds to see if we can even become what we once were, that is what I will be."

"You seem… peaceful enough with that."

"I've learned. And I came to you tonight because I wanted you to know that your mixed feelings about these people is something I understand. I still don't know exactly how to behave around them, to be part of them. It's awkward… yet rewarding."

For a long moment, Iyla does not respond. Then she eases a hand the size of a bed over and I accept the offer to lay down my aching body, surprised to find the leathery surface warm and comfortable.

"Indeed," she muses more to herself than me as I lie protected by her, grateful to have been some small help.


	38. Important Errands

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ruby and Mulan grow closer in the aftermath of sacrifice and some important errands are taken care of.

++ Mulan ++

(7-21-13)

I have shooed away the healers of Storybrooke, relying on my own poultices and teas to combat infection and pain. So far, they are working, but I know how dangerous puncture wounds can be. Slivers of wood like daggers had pierced my armor, particularly where it is thin beneath my arms. Still, better there than in my neck where my upraised arm had raised in protective reflex.

That protective reflex and a flying tackle from Ruby Lucas.

Neither of us had walked away from that unscathed, but even a passing glance at the wall bristling with shards of wood convinced me that I may just owe the temperamental woman my life. Her friends too had jumped in to help, the men named Doc and Grumpy stepping in to pull out the splinters when Aurora understandably balked. I'd been soaked in my own blood, gritting my teeth and grunting in agony throughout the combat dressing. My traveling companion had been better served as something to cling to as anchor, my own glove clamped tight between my teeth.

Even Aurora, once a pampered princess, shows the wounds of war on her skin and in her glazed eyes. Both physically and mentally, she has been scarred further, but once again shows the strength I admire in her and perseveres. 

"That damn girl is gonna drive me crazy," Granny Lucas growls and frets as she stomps outside where I'm resting in the shade. For a moment, the older woman is unaware that she is not alone and the stark worry in every line of her body catches my attention. When she notices me shift position slightly, the sharp gaze jerks over and turns shrewd. "Y'know, there was a time when I would have cheered how tight she's clinging to that hood right about now. But she'll heal better as a wolf."

"Ruby does not strike me as the sort to fear the wolf."

Granny scoffs harshly at my words and rubs her nose, hard. "You don't know her, girlie, don't know what she's done, what she's capable of. Sure, she's got control, but torn up like this? I don't know what to tell her."

Struggling with my own wounds, I stiffly get to my feet and go to her. "I owe Ruby my life. Let me see what I can do."

A variety of emotions run across the aged face and sharp eyes, but she finally takes my offer with a silent nod. Returning the gesture, I limp to the house and for the first time, descend the steps that lead to the subterranean level of the big structure. The dim stuffiness swallows me up and I note a large, cluttered living space and a tiny kitchen with a toilet area beyond. Which leaves me to explore the two open doors on the far end of the room.

"Go away," Ruby whines where she is little more than a lump beneath her voluminous cloak.

"No."

That startles her, the lump revealed to be Ruby's now familiar shape as she painstakingly looks over her shoulder at me, the cloak half falling away. "What are you doing here?"

"Taking care of you."

 

++ Ruby ++

If I had the energy, I would growl and snap at the presumptuousness of every damn person around me. The pain that plagues me will make me deadly and all the more unpredictable as the moon rises soon, too damn soon. I haven't been so terrified of my curse since the terror was newly revealed to me. Memories of what I did to Peter have driven me half mad not only with the remembering, but with the knowledge that I could do it again. I don't give a damn what Granny says, there's no way I can trust myself and I huddle beneath the armor of the crimson cloth and its powerful enchantments.

"Go away." I try again, cursing the weakness and whine in my voice, the fear so obvious there.

"No."

The bed shifts and I hear Mulan exhale shakily just behind me. I'd almost forgotten how I'd gotten hurt in the first place, lunging into danger to save one of my own. For she has quietly become just that. Tireless and dedicated to those she cares about, she has more than outdone herself to protect her new home and neighbors. That, more than anything, has ensured her a place in my wolf's heart. 

But the woman I am as well remains conflicted.

A cool hand on my cheek startles me, bringing my head half around.

"It is more than your body that hurts. I understand."

The tender hand slips over my cheek to my neck, making my skin prickle pleasantly, startling me. Sure, I've noticed this exotic woman is attractive, but haven't really registered it. Haven't really had a chance. That confusion swirls with the soothing touch as her hand trails over my shoulder and down my arm, pushing away the hooded cloak. I want to slap her away, but I'm just so exhausted and sore. And the simple pleasure of an undemanding touch is lulling me to calm.

"Will you allow me to tend your wounds?"

Again, I can't ignore how gently she asks, such a contrast to the constant overbearing fussing that has my mixed instincts so on edge. I can't even care that I'm naked from the waist up, because really, there's been no point in a shirt with Granny hovering over my wounds to the point where I have trouble sleeping. As I've grown used to, I let Mulan draw up my right arm, reveling the ragged constellation of puncture wounds all up and down my arm, side and back. Her aggrieved sound makes a smile quirk my face and I eye her around the length of my raised arm.

"What, never seen a naked werewolf before?"

The tease earns me a dry look, but the gentle hand never changes intent. "You are not healing as well as you should. Is this foul-smelling slime really supposed to help?"

The description makes me chuckle and with I could see the looks of the medical personnel at her derisive dismissal of modern medical technology.

"Will you trust me?"

 

++ Mulan ++

I have noticed, of course, the refined beauty of this woman and how it draws me like a foolish moth to flame. But I had not expected how the silk of her skin stretched over the deceptive slenderness of her would… unsettle me. Nor those piercing eyes and the moonlit power of her, so close now to the surface. I feel torn as to treat her as woman or beast.

"Yes," Ruby's soft reply pulls me from my thoughts. "You've earned that."

Good, a task will focus my scattered thoughts and chase away Aurora's teasing me about my draw to this unusual woman what feels like a lifetime ago before the ogres came. "I will return in a moment."

In the tiny kitchen I fill a pair of bowls with hot water and find clean cloth stored close by, dumping a rag in each bowl before returning to Ruby, ignoring the pull of my own wounds. In the dying rays of evening creeping in through the high windows of these subterranean rooms, she looks more relaxed than she truly is. The bowls are set on the small table beside the bed and I wring out a rag to wipe away the chemical tang of the medicines that are clearly not working as well as they should. Then the second bowl and rag to gently scrub the wounds which are too wet and sickly looking, leaving the marks pink and angry against her fair skin. I have only a small amount of my poultice, a worryingly small amount, but I willingly touch small smears of the paste to the worst of her wounds.

"I have not thanked you for saving my life."

A smile curls the well-formed mouth, her body completely open and relaxed beneath my hands.

"Pack sticks together, warrior."

"Not warrior," I correct without the venom the statement can oftentimes carry. "Soldier. I understand the power of belonging to something bigger and more powerful than oneself."

The mossy green eyes watch me closely and in that moment, I feel the strange bond to this stranger most keenly.

"I might harm them."

"You will not. You are stronger than that."

When the change comes suddenly, it is shockingly natural, her body changing shape very fluidly, the way ribs flex around breath, muscles bunch in effort, tendons pull, joints bend. I do not look away from her eyes, turned dark and silvery, fur all the shadows of night, soft and wiry beneath my still hands. Terror is close as the moonbeams that shine through the windows, but I truly believe that she will not harm me or anyone else.

"I will stay with you, if you stay with me."

For endless moments, the moonlit eyes study me almost impassively before she blinks and lays her head back down and sighs heavily.

I am humbled by the trust.

 

++ Red ++

My feet itch to run, my lungs to breathe deep of the night air.

But I am not alone.

It feels so strange, the warmth of another body pressed to mine, heat mingling. Strange, but welcome.

She smells completely different than anyone else amidst the humans, her scent as exotic as her looks and dress. Rare as well for her fearlessness with my dangers wearing this skin. Things are oversensitive when I am the wolf, oversaturated. Instincts lie sharp and close, like a tooth bared in anticipation, but still I lie peacefully in her embrace. If there is one thing I understand all too well, be I woman or wolf, it is loneliness. 

So I remain quiet amidst the human trappings, ignoring feeling caged by walls and glass, and let that strong, slender arm be my anchor.

Even when my relation, the old one who raised me, leans into the quiet room, I do little more than point an ear and nose in her general direction. I don't need to see her smile to sense it and neither of us disturbs the sleeping soldier. It would surprise me how easily I slip back to sleep on this moonlit night were I not so relaxed.

Waking to sunlight and my human skin, I fully expect to find myself on the forest floor and alone. But not this Wolfstime. Apparently, I did indeed stay as I was asked to.

It's so strange to feel the weight of another body against my back, her arm lazy and warm over my ribs. Rare enough that I think-- outside of living like wild animals with Snow so long ago-- Mulan might be the first.

How sad for me, but I grew resigned to it years ago. Few can handle my danger without blinking. Granny, who is my own, Snow, with her big heart and now this scarred soldier who I suspect just might understand me in ways that could take a lifetime to figure out. Funny, I don't seem to fear that prospect so much anymore.

"Hey soldier."

It takes a moment for Mulan's body to shift subtly where she's spooned up against my back, her breath changing, muscles awakening.

"Thank you. For staying with me."

Her quiet statement makes me smile and shift to trap her arm when she tries to shift away.

"Thank you. For your acceptance."

Humming something neutral, Mulan melts back into me and I grin more. Who'd have thought she was a cuddler? And my damn wounds feel better too. Bonus!

 

++ Emma ++

(7-24-13)

"Good to see you up and about, Hero," Killian greets me jovially as the familiar wagon clatters to a halt at the curb in front of the big house. I'm gratified to see real relief in the blue eyes and the seemingly careless smile.

"You too, Pirate."

Helping Regina up into the back, I send Henry after her before stiffly following and settling in so that Regina can cuddle into my side. We've barely been apart long enough to eat and shower since the big finale at the wall, Henry rarely very far away.

It's been a shockingly quiet week since the shit hit the fan, hardly a message or complaint making its way to the Mifflin house to bother me and mine. But the town around is finally starting to really recover from the latest round of devastation and think about rebuilding. There are people in the fields saving what crops they can, which must be a relief after all of the death and destruction.

I dread tallying who made it and who didn't, reminded of the toll by the distant stripes of fresh earth in neat rows where the bodies are respectfully buried.

"My teacher, Mrs. Fosterson, didn't make it," Henry says quietly where he's cuddled into Regina's other side and I stroke his head comfortingly. "And old Mr. Cooper that ran the feed store by the stables. A lot of people didn't."

"War does that," Regina whispers and our collected ghosts feel very close and dark in spite of the sunshine.

The roar of diesel engines lead us to the wall and the incongruous sight of the dragon assisting from the outside of the massive wooden structure. Trees levitate over the wall to settle to the torn up earth and the small work force swarm over it like ants to strip it of branches and shape it into spikes on both ends. They've even added to the wall, expanding it to encompass more of the open space around the walls. 

"At the rate they've been going," Killian chimes up. "They'll be finished by nightfall, even with only a skeleton crew. Admirable work, that."

She sounds as exhausted as everyone else, pounds shed from her already slender frame in physical proof of the strain. As we reach the dusty work crews, the machinery falls silent and we are swarmed for the food and drink crowding the wagon. It's weird and heartening to see how the townsfolk look at Regina now, their old terrors reawakened, but mixed with relief and thanks and a respect born more of those positive things rather than fear.

The ground vibrates as Iyla slams home another shaped tree trunk, her face readably intent, no matter her reptilian features. 

"I guess she wants to stay after all," Henry says quietly and looks up at Regina, who smiles warmly at him.

"You should go say hello to your friend. She should like that. Just be careful up there."

"I will. Thanks, Mom."

Weaving his way through the crowd, Henry reappears on the rough stairs that leads to the scaffolding that clings to the inside of the wall. When Iyla notices him, she studies him for a moment before shrinking down to her human form to speak with him.

"Our boy's growing up," I note quietly and tighten my loose grip around Regina's shoulders.

There's something disquieting and yet thrilling about saying that. An affirmation of family that can still be hard even now. Looking down into the rich, dark eyes of the woman I've come to love, I see all of my conflicts and contentment reflected back like the sun on the moon.

 

++ Henry ++

(7-26-13)

We all jump when Iyla poofs into the foyer in a cloud of smoke, freezing when she notices our stares. Boy and I though Emma was awkward sometimes…

"I… have interrupted your meal," she says carefully and Emma stands and gestures at the empty seat Granny would be in if she wasn't at the wall tonight. 

"Please, join us."

"Thank you."

Though it's really obvious she has more to say, we all leave her alone for now and go back to our dinners. We don't talk as much as we used to, but I think it's just because so much has been going on and we're all really tired and kinda hurting still and stuff.

"The wall is complete. I will be taking my leave of you."

I can't be the only one that's surprised and disappointed. But Mulan talks before I can, her voice quiet and even like it always is.

"Must you?"

Someday, the expressions on Iyla's face all the time lately are gonna be hilarious because she just doesn't have a clue how to act around us.

"It is only temporary. I will be gathering the denizens of this forest and the surrounding lands so that all may be heard." An actual half-smile turns up the side of her mouth as the silvery eyes move around the table. "As it is quite apparent that you will be staying."

"Will a representative of our community be required?"

None of us expected Aurora to say that, but she doesn't look at anyone except Iyla. The dragon shakes her head, but her little smile stays. "Not at this time, but that will undoubtedly be a necessity in the near future. Henry."

When she says my name, I pay attention. "Yes?"

"I hope to be able to learn further from you, young man, sooner rather than later. You and your intriguing parents both."

Emma grins, but Mom looks kinda shocked. She still gets that way when people are nice to her most times. And after the last fight with the ogres, things have been weird again around town. Well, weirder anyway. Some days I really can't remember why I wanted so bad to come here.

"I'll miss you. Promise you'll come back?"

I didn't mean to sound so teary, but I don't want anyone else I care about to go away. Not even this weird, sorta scary dragon who's worse with people than even Mom was before Emma. Iyla makes her funny face again, the one that I'll always remember as when she's trying to figure us little people out.

"Yes, Henry, I promise."

 

++ Emma ++

"If I ever need a steely-eyed diplomat, I'm totally hiring you."

My dry comment lightens the somber mood left by Iyla's departure, Aurora's grin pleased and faintly embarrassed. "There has been little call for much of the royal training I received over my years."

"Not obvious stuff sometimes, huh?"

There's that faint smile at the corner of Regina's mouth, the one that gives away her mind casting back to the bittersweet of her younger years. She's told me before that it wasn't all bad, even beneath the reign of terror that had been Cora.

"Oh, there was the more obvious training," Aurora continues and I note her sly smile. "Which fork to use, the trials of a formal ball. Though I think you would hardly suit a ball gown now."

Her deadpan is perfect, eliciting twitters around the table. So I gasp in cheesy femme fatale outrage and toss my napkin, cracking everyone's laughter loose. "Sassy."

Relaxed again, we return to our evening, falling into patterns of family. Some of us clean up while others retreat to the living room to set up the board game of the night. It's become a ritual as we've all willingly given in to Aurora's fascination with them. A knock at the door catches my ear, but before I can duck out of drying dishes duty, Henry hollers that he's got it. I recognize Kath… Abigail's voice in the foyer and grin at Ruby where she scrubs next to me. In unspoken agreement we pick up the pace so we can join in.

By the time we manage that, the living room has been rearranged to accommodate the visitor. They've dragged in one of the dining room chairs and Abigail is happily chattering with Regina where my girl is curled up in my big lounge chair. 

"Hey gorgeous," I half growl into Regina's neck with a nuzzle and flash a grin at Abigail, enjoy their girlish giggling. "Good to see you, Abigail."

She returns the greeting as I squirm my big frame in behind Regina and we accommodate each other with practiced ease. I'm perfectly fine with the arrangement, her back to me, body half atop mine, dark hair tickling over my neck. My one arm is wrapped around her above Lily's bulk and her touch ghosts over my skin. Tonight it's Sorry, an easy enough game to comprehend quickly and even Mulan gets in on it, her small smile endearing.

As a lonely child in a system that failed more than it succeeded, this is the sort of commonplace family night I dreamed of endlessly. My loved ones close by, warm voices and laughter, all of it mine at last. When I unconsciously tighten my loose grip on Regina, she rubs her warm scalp on my jaw. Even without meeting my eyes, she understands the swirl of happy and melancholy that always lingers close by. It's one of the things that draws me endlessly to her, the contrasts of the different facets of her and how they reflect me back to me. Trying to explain that to her has never really worked, simply because I lack the words.

Breathing into Regina's hair, I let the emotions wash over me, content with how things have turned out, thankful even for the horrors, as they have led me here, with her and all of these other people I've come to love.

 

++ David ++

(7-30-13)

After three days of peace and quiet, I'd been as restless as everyone else and ecstatic with Snow's passing comment about the nursery in the castle. It's a perfect day trip and will have us back long before dark. Under Granny's watchful eye and the promise of that deadly crossbow aimed at any intruder, Snow and Regina had grudgingly sent us off. Aurora still looks plenty pleased with herself for bossily telling Mulan to stay put as she's still in no condition to act as captain of the guard for our oddball family. She'd solemnly accepted the loan of the darker woman's clan sword, slinging it carefully over her back where she can draw it easily.

Emma's slung on a pair of pistols like a gunslinger and Jack the Giant Killer's sword is crossed with a shotgun over his broad back, an arrangement I liked enough to mimic. Even Henry bears sword and shield and I really need to find some time to really teach him how to wield both. And get back to the horse riding lessons. It's just been so busy…

Granny's leading with Henry and Aurora on her heels, talking animatedly about anything and everything. Their friendship is sweet to watch and both are learning from the other all the time. That leaves me to bring up the rear with my eldest and keep an eye out that he doesn't overtax himself. At the long narrow bridge I rode over many times, Granny raises a demanding hand and we all fall silent instantly. Long, tense moments tick by, enough that I'm starting to worry, but finally she urges her horse forward and the other mounts follow quietly. Luckily, just as Snow had noted when she had been here months ago, there doesn't seem to be any evidence of trolls. Anything else we can handle pretty easily.

Time has left its mark on the mossy ramparts, in countless broken windows and greenery in the oddest places. There is a patchy meadow in the courtyard and even stubborn saplings that broke their way through the cobblestones to the earth below.

"I hardly recognize the place," I murmur and Granny makes a small noise of agreement. A darting fox nearly sets all five of us off, but in a way, the burst of movement is a relief, allowing us to focus better as we silently pick our way through the old castle. Time may have stopped passing for the people of the Enchanted Forest, but it certainly did not for the objects we left behind. Though I note that more is intact than I would have believed given how many years have passed.

"Y'know, if everything was held in time stasis or whatever you want to call it for most of the curse," Emma muses as we move carefully through the empty castle, "there might be more stuff inhabitable than we thought. That could be useful."

"No argument there," I murmur quietly, trying to not get too distracted, despite how I want to go searching the grounds. "It's hard to tell if this has all been standing empty for two years or thirty."

More moments pass as we move through the halls and suddenly Henry chuckles. "Hey Pops, look. I really am following in your footsteps."

Sure enough, there are three pair of footsteps in the dust, the fourth nearly obscured by the old sweep of cloth. Aurora's grin is wry as she gestures to the latter with the tip of her borrowed sword. "I was still in skirts when we came through here."

Emma very deliberately sets a big, booted foot beside one of the dusty prints and his expression is a mix of emotion. Not Snow's light shoes, nor the smooth-soled boot shapes that must be Mulan's, but a rugged tread, the prints small and heavy. They look comically tiny beside his large feet.

"Been awhile since I've bumped into my old self," he says quietly, soberly, and we are quiet once more on our route to the old nursery. Inside the familiar room, grown foreign with time and damage, we stare around, taking stock. "Snow should be here."

I couldn't agree more.

 

++ Henry ++

Emma and Gramps are looking a little weirded out, so I'll behave and not comb the place the way I really want to. Trading a look with Aurora is all I need to get her help and we immediately go over to the oversized baby bed and grab the carved posts to stand it up. It cracks against the hard floor sharply, making them jump, but they don't look so much like they're looking for ghosts now.

"Nothing bad's gonna happen this time."

Somehow it's the right thing and both relax gratefully. Emma slings the shotgun over his shoulder and bends down to pick up a raggedy teddy bear, his expression all mixed up between happy and sad. I bet I'm going to be seeing that a lot on him and David both.

"Granny?" When Emma asks for her quietly, she immediately walks over to him. "Do you think you could clean this up for me? Snow had a hard time putting this down last time I was here and I'd like to give it to her for the twins."

Her smile is soft and she very carefully brushes the bear off and tucks it into the sack she's carrying. Aurora says something about linens being in decent shape, but I barely hear her as I see the half-burned tree and pile of ashes that is so out of place in the mess.

"Is that…?"

That big, familiar hand resting on the back of my neck is comforting and I stand with Emma and look at the mess. This is what's left of the magic tree, carved into a wardrobe that brought Emma and Pinocchio to the world I was born in.

"Kinda makes it real, huh? I felt exactly the same way when I was here before, putting my hands on it, realizing that the stories were all true. Look up."

The ceiling is smashed out, all the glass and stone gone, tossed away somewhere and I realize something that shocks me and makes me a little ill.

This is where the Curse really happened. This is where my Mom once stood, crazy and evil, where David almost died after he saved baby Emma…

"This place is creepy."

"Just full of memories, son, some good, some bad. Help me find any stuffed animals and stuff that might be salvageable and we'll take them home and clean them up for the babies. That will be a good way to turn something bad to good, okay?"

By the time we're ready to go, the cradle is full of blankets and stuffed animals and stuff. The grownups each grab a corner and carry it out with me standing guard.

"Someday, maybe we can reclaim this place," David says thoughtfully and I can tell he'd really like to. "Clean it up and make it livable again."

"It's a good idea," Emma agrees with a nod, but I can tell that he wouldn't be any more comfortable here than I would be. A long time ago, living in a castle and being a prince were the coolest thing I could imagine. But that was before I knew what the cost could be.


	39. Strengthening Connections

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Iyla returns with a mix of good and bad news, leaving Emma to make one last big sacrifice in the name of destiny. Oh, and Ruby ups the ante, giving Aurora fodder for teasing her best friend for ages to come!

++ Emma ++

Leaving the cradle in the courtyard, we poke around and the day takes an upturn when we find endless useful stuff all over. Tack and saddles, bits and pieces left in the armory, tons of cooking supplies in the huge-ass kitchens, sturdy bed frames in lots of rooms. Granny assures us that with some elbow grease, the place could be habitable for winter if Storybrooke is feeling overcrowded. 

Which it kinda is, actually.

No one has complained, at least that I know of, because we've been so busy and desperate for so long, but that should change now. And there are lots of the townsfolk that would revert back to their lives here really easily. A lot of them. If we got in a decent road between the two locations, it shouldn't be too hard.

Mind distracted, I nearly jump clean out of my skin when a massive shadow whips by with that sound of snapping sails. Sure enough, it's Iyla, circling around.

"I would speak with you, Knight," her telepathic voice calls out and I give her a wave in acknowledgement.

She seems taken aback when Henry runs to her with a glad shout of her name as she settles to the bridge outside, making the horses dance and fuss. She hesitates like a prissy, aloof cat, torn how to react to Henry's excess of emotion, despite that it's damn clear that she really does want to respond. So like a feline, she hesitates before casually dropping her head and angling her deadly muzzle away, silently encouraging his affections. 

The blatantly subservient pose can't be easy on her, but Henry makes it worthwhile, beaming with delight and leaning into against her head near the corner of her eye. "I missed you," I hear him say quietly as I walk over and dip my head respectfully to the great dragon, who gives me a look so like Regina at her prickliest that I have to choke down a laugh. Iyla only sighs wearily, but her eyes are soft.

"As did I, young Knight," Iyla's voice speaks softly in our minds. "But my absence was not in vain."

"Good to see you again, Iyla."

"You as well, Emma. I have spoken with the denizens of the forest and I will need to speak with your Ruling Council immediately."

And there's the crux of the thing. It's gonna leave me scrambling for who to round up to hear whatever it is the dragon has to say, trying to delve into malformed reservoirs of diplomacy without turning the whole damn thing into a circus. 

David could be a help, but I think he's as overwhelmed and stressed as I am-- no shock there-- and I really, really don't want to fall back into the 'royal makes right' bullshit. Ironically, Aurora saves the day with effortless ease, bowing slightly to both the dragon, David and I.

"If I may be of assistance, Knights," her blue eyes are mischievous and I can't help but smile. "You did say, Emma, that if you ever needed a steely-eyed diplomat, that you would hire me. I will volunteer for the duty and take on Henry here as my assistant."

He looks so blown away that I wouldn't have told him no even if I'd been inclined to, which I'm not. Giving him a serious look gets Henry's attention and he comes to me at a gesture. "It's a big responsibility. You up for it? Aurora can teach us both a lot about being princes, but I'd rather you learn it. You're young and adaptable and have fewer responsibilities and would benefit from it than I will."

He nods after hesitating and I'm gratified to see that he's weighing the pros and cons. "I'll do my best, Emma."

"I know you will. Now, let's get this stuff loaded up on the extra horse and get home."

 

++ Aurora ++

Now, I have only had a scant five weeks among these people and much of that time has been so frenetic that I have only been able to get the most basic grasp of who they are and how they operate. But it is a good, strong basic grasp and with Henry's help, it will be enough. We return home long enough to reassure our loved ones, Henry to hug his mother and grandmother and myself to return Mulan's sword. That is assurance enough that I am well and she lets me go with a small smile.

I really need to find some moments to ask after the softening of my stoic friend, the warmth one can feel between her and the enigmatic Ruby. It's more than just a shared brush with death, more than being the lieutenants to Emma and his family. Something fragile and personal has happened and I mean to find out more!

Full dark has taken over the land by the time a weary Henry drags me home, his hand damp and hot in mine. I feel badly that I haven't noticed my empty belly and how fatigued the boy looks, but we have accomplished much towards our goal. Talked ourselves hoarse as Emma might put it.

"Dammit you two! It's after eleven!"

I'm quite certain my flinch at Emma's raised voice is the equal of Henry's and Emma rubs the top of his nose and gestures towards the kitchen. 

"There are some sandwiches in there for you, and then get your butt to bed, young man."

"Yes sir," Henry murmurs and slinks off to the offered food. I pause and note that Emma is looking at me with fond exasperation. "Go on, you. I was just worried. Get."

Echoing Henry's acknowledgement, I do as I'm told, standing with the boy in the dim space and quieting our rumbling hunger. The strangest things appear in the electrical refrigerators in Storybrooke, but I do enjoy the orange juice. The cold cow's milk has no appeal, but Henry drinks it with relish, burping and looking sheepish. My giggling reassures him that his failure in manners will be our little secret.

"Thanks for taking me along," he says quietly, washing his dishes in the sink. "Even though we ran late."

"Yes, that was unfortunate. But Emma seems only worried rather than angry."

"Yeah, I agree. So we'll finish up tomorrow?"

"Of course!"

"Sweet! G'nite Aurora!"

With a quick, powerful hug, Henry races out, squealing with shocked laughter when Emma grabs him and, despite the recent nearly deadly injuries, tosses the lad over his broad shoulders to be carried upstairs.

"Pops!" Henry wails with a laugh, echoed by his blonde parent.

"Gotta go see your mom, punk, and then time for some sleep. Besides, your little sister hasn't had a story in days."

They make me smile with real warmth. 

 

++ Mulan ++

Through the dark of night, the sound of their voices had reassured me of their safety. How I hate being so weighed down, so slow and painful with the injuries that still plague me. The door to the garage creaks open and clicks closed once more, the familiar sound of Aurora's breathing and footsteps soothing me. We've created a rough living space here in this crowded room, neither of us needing much more than a corner to sleep in.

Though right now, I am missing Ruby's bed.

"Move over, Mulan."

It galls me to do so, but I've little choice. Duty rails at me that my role is to sleep closest to the door, sword close by in case of trouble. But that is not to be for now. Stretching and yawning, Aurora toes off her shoes and settles beside me with a long, grumbling sigh. For long moments it is though once again it is just us two, surviving in the endless forest. But the strong walls around us, the small sounds of the town beyond, the stifling heat held close to our skins, these realities are what is ours now.

"You miss her."

Trying not to flinch and change my expression is only partially successful, not that Aurora is even looking at me in the scraps of dim light. In the quiet, I struggle with what to say to this strange connection I feel with the enigma that is Ruby Lucas.

"I do."

The honesty makes me squirm, but it is hard to lie to this young woman to whom I am bound to so tightly.

"There is more, yes?"

Aurora is normally respectful of my taciturn nature, but I sense that she will persist if she must. Confusion and my mixed feelings swirl in brain and belly and I raise my unwounded arm to rub my face.

"Yes."

Squirming around, she angles her body so her soft scalp nestles into the crook of my shoulder and neck, her feet angled towards the door. It is a pleasant reminder of our time with the intimacy of long-term travel companions and something in me unknots. A tension caused by this strange, crowded place I had not even recognized as stressful.

"Good," Aurora murmurs, her voice thickening into sleep. "You've a great capacity to love, my friend."

Warmed and embarrassed by the soft words, I turn my nose into her pale locks and let sleep come, secure in her presence.

 

++ Emma ++

It's quite a party building up around the big house, people showing up nervous and energized to hear what the dragon has to say. Said dragon has passed the night and morning looking over every square inch of the wall and making improvements where she sees fit. It's a riot actually, watching her distant form pace around like a nervous watch dog. For all her standoffishness before, she's sure as hell dedicated now.

A warm, welcome presence at my elbow brings my attention around and I smile at my beloved son.

"They're all here, Emma."

To my amusement-- I've long since given up at being shocked what magic can do-- Iyla's dramatic head comes around as though Henry has spoken to her over the distance. In an instant, the dragon has dissolved into a poof of silvery smoke and her human-looking self steps out of a matching cloud at the end of the walk.

"Come, knights," she murmurs as she strides past, staff clicking on the ground but steps silent. 

The living room is packed around the big couch, taken up by Snow, Ruby, Mulan and a clearly nervous Regina. Surrounded as she is, I'm not really surprised and I shoo Henry over to cuddle with her.

"I have met with the denizens of these lands," Iyla speaks up with no preamble. "There are many creatures that call this forest home that were left behind when the Great Curse was cast. Many of them were once your enemies and many still are."

There is an ugly ripple of alarm and anger that ripples through the crowd and I'm wishing now that I'd gone to Regina rather than stand with the dragon.

"That said, even the ogres understand now that you are once more part of these lands. But things cannot return to how they once were, with all peoples and creatures of this forest doing what they will with no regard to the others. That way will lead once more to war and devastation."

Again, that ugly ripple travels through the crowd, tinged now with fear.

"The Forest Council has agreed to meet with a designated ambassador from Storybrooke to discuss the terms of treaties. Who is up to you."

Silence falls and eyes wander from face to face to face in haphazard fashion. Who the hell can do that? Speak for this whole town? Who carries that sort of presence, that sort of weight?

It isn't Regina's gaze, or Henry's or anyone else's that brings on the revelation… but my parent's. Somber and trusting and encouraging and just a tad fearful, Snow White and David remind me of my heritage long before I was aware of myself. In them, I am of royal blood and they've long insisted that it will come naturally to me. In loving Regina, in Lily's bulk on her once slender frame, I have also effectively married into another royal bloodline. Looking down at my big, calloused hands, I can feel the buzz of magic forever under my skin and I reminded that I am a powerful sorcerer in my own right. And even if I tried to deny it, I know that I'm really the only one that the entire town will defer to, being the Savior and all.

It's been awhile since I've felt the insanity of my life so keenly.

It takes a real effort to screw up my courage and face the assembly. In their eyes I am heartened and humbled by this new responsibility no one needs to put to words.

"Could…" my voice breaks comically, but no one is amused. "Could you please give me a moment with my mate and child?"

 

++ Regina ++

I want to shout protest. No! I can't lose him again! How much must I give up for this town? How much must I lose to redeem myself?

Emma kneels stiffly at my knees as the room empties out quietly, taking my hands and Henry's in his big ones.

"When I came here," he says quietly, looking at our intertwined hands. "I didn't give a damn about anybody but myself. I'd never learned the value of sacrifice for others. Henry, you started teaching me, Regina, you pretty much finished the job. I'm not at all happy about being the right body for this, but unfortunately…"

My tears break loose, cool on my flushed skin, Henry's mumble alarmed and hurting. "But, Emma…"

Pulling away his hands, Emma wraps us both in a gentle hug. "It has to be me, kid. Royalty, magic, the loyalty of the town, I'm the only one that has it all."

Sobbing, I cling to his powerful neck and shoulders, knowing the truth of the words and despising them. I fear being alone more than anything, what it may do to me, what it nearly has. Just two weeks ago, he nearly died… and now this.

Yet, we both survived it. And somehow, I know, that maybe, just maybe, with the help of my beloved son and the strange and diverse family we have been surrounded with, I can do this.

Pulling back, I cradle the bearded face in my hands, stroking my thumbs over the corner of his eyes, dark with agony and love. Shaken with fear and the scars that still ache on my soul, I grasp at a shaken calm that would have been impossible not so long ago.

"Emma," I whisper, "I clung and grasped and coveted for so long that even now that part of me is never far away. I have lost everything before and you helped heal me of the worst of that. You and Henry and Snow and our Pack and even this whole community that should hate me."

Tugging the shaggy blonde head closer, I press his forehead to mine, our breath mingling.

"Go. No matter what happens to either of us, I'm not alone anymore."

When his big body arches over Lily and Henry to cling to us both, I am pleasantly crushed, soaking up the adoration of their touches, absorbing the memory to help be my strength.

"You would never really be without me," Emma whispers. "No matter whatever happens to any of us. I never understood that until you two… three."

We all manage watery laughs at Lily's imperious kick to Emma's belly as though she knows she was accidentally left out.

 

++ Emma ++

(8-1-13)

I'm quite literally shaking with fatigue and raw nerves, dying inside over leaving this behind. Outside of packing a mess of clothes, I left everything to Aurora and Mulan, who have imperiously informed me that they are coming along. Truthfully, I'm relieved for the non-demanding companionship. I trust them, I've traveled and fought with them, but they are not so close that they will smother me. And I'm sure as hell not going to argue at having a couple of fighters at my back who also have the skills of a warrior-soldier and a diplomat.

"It is a lengthy journey that must be made by foot and wing." Iyla is explaining quietly to someone indistinct in the dimness before dawn. "Since the casting of the Great Curse, magic has become erratic and obeys rules even I no longer understand. However, I have noticed that it seems to be stabilizing since your return. I suspect that the presence of the missing inhabitants of the Forest were needed for constancy."

"Okay, that's fair," David answers just as quietly and he offers a hand Iyla hesitantly embraces with her own. "Please take good care of them."

"I will."

As I am clearly fragile, he merely steps over and hugs me, bone-creakingly hard, and I fight more tears. "Be safe, Emma."

With a quick kiss to my forehead that leaves me sniffling, he steps into the house and quietly closes the door. And with that, I am separated from my loved ones and my heart feels like it's going to claw its way out of my chest. Soundless in my grief, I go to the weird contraption my companions are fussing over, realizing that it's the wooden boat they'd arrived in, clever converted to hang from Iyla's neck and chest like a hot air balloon basket.

My couple of duffel bags clatter to the wood and Mulan silently hands me a travel mug I note is cleverly also a French press. "Thanks Granny," I mutter and manage to get a sip of the brew down, relishing the tiny comfort of taste and heat.

"Hey Pops!"

Henry leans out of his bedroom window beside the huge oak, smiling bravely, his voice almost normal in tone.

"When you get back, we both gotta celebrate our birthdays late."

For a moment, I have no idea what he's talking about, until I realize with a start that he'll be twelve in only two days. Even as I open my mouth to say something, anything, he calls out again.

"Don't sweat it, it's okay. This has to be get done or we'll never get to settle in here."

The serious moment is lightened by his sudden grin flashing in the rising dawn and I'm struck by just how fast he's growing up.

"Besides, I'll get more presents, 'cause everyone will feel bad."

Choking down a scoff of laughter mixed in with the choking regret, I manage to reply with only a little quaver in my voice. "that's a little Machiavellian for a Leo."

Without missing a beat, and with a smirk I know all too well from the other brunette upstairs, Henry fires back, "that would be my mother's doing."

I cannot stop the cleansing gales of laughter.

 

++ Mulan ++

Emma's laughter is as much sobbing, but I understand. With a wave like a respectful salute, Henry forces himself to retreat behind the windows of his room. With a fog of magic, Iyla once more towers above us in her dragon form, watching quietly as Aurora lobs ropes over her neck and shoulders. Swallowing an understandable fear of the massive beast-- after all one of these had plagued her family line for some time-- she still allows Iyla to lift her between the wings to settle the ropes where they will be safe from fraying. I pull up the canvas tent I'd spent the night attaching to the boat to protect us from the wind while Emma stows our gear carefully and pulls out cold-weather gear.

"We're ready up here," Aurora calls out, stepping onto the hand that Iyla offers and then gratefully into the boat. The dragon hunches down and we begin lashing our makeshift craft to our regal ride, eager to be away. 

"Mulan! Wait!"

Startled, I look to Ruby, where she comes around the corner of the house, barely half dressed.

"Go on," Emma encourages. "We'll be a minute yet."

Stepping from the boat, hand steadying the sword hanging at my side, I mean to ask what it is she wants.

But I don't get the chance.

With reflexes every bit as quick as her wolf nature, Ruby is on me, shocking me still, hands hard on my scalp and back. Dizzy with the rough, lusty kiss, I feel helpless to do more than cling to her hips and distantly wish I weren't already wearing my gauntlets so that I could feel her skin a last time. For a moment, my world narrows to just we two and the rawness between us.

Breathing hard, Ruby leans away only far enough to press her forehead to mine and I blink to try and gain a hold on my senses. I barely note that I lick my lips, caught up in the taste and feel of her.

"I wanted you to know my intentions before you go," she says quietly, the timbre to her voice making something deep within me flutter to anxious life. "Be safe, keep them safe, come home safe." 

And like an apparition or a heated dream, she is gone at a lope and I am left reeling.

Clumsy and weak-kneed, I manage to stumble to the boat and allow Emma to press me down beside him on the floor of the craft. With great, scaled hands bracing the boat, Iyla launches herself into the air with a force I have never felt before, crushing me and making Aurora laugh. We are well away before any of us dares to sit up and peer about in the morning sun. The movement of the boat and the terrifying distance to the ground will take some getting used to.

"That was quite the farewell," Aurora teases dryly and I feel my face heat, remembering Ruby's touch. My muttering gratitude at being an only child only makes Aurora laugh and even Emma to smile faintly.

Oh, how I hope this errand will not take overly long, for we all have something important to come home to.

 

++ Regina ++

(8-15-13)

The summer is warm. Henry dotes on me while the others move about the edges of my perceptions as the days crawl by.

Only the thin, tense thread of connection keeps me sane, a bow string pulled tight, a piano wire waiting to be struck so that sound pours out, that is what I am now. My magical tether to Emma's keeps my soul anchored down while Lily's insistent weight, her seemingly endless tossing and turning within me, brings me back to the life around me. I can lose hours of time, lost in the faint thrum of emotion that distracts me from afar. Once, it was nearly two days that I drifted about the house, reactive to my family and friend's care, but barely aware of my surroundings. 

Henry worries, the dear, but seems to understand that my connection to Emma, thin and tight, is my greatest source of strength now.

Then, suddenly, two weeks have passed and I am jarred back to the present by a sound from my past. The cry of an infant, thin and petulant in the afternoon warmth that makes my own crowded womb twitch with sympathy.

"Oh, I am so happy to be out of the hospital!"

Curled up in Emma's big lounge chair, I half sit up as my former nemesis comes into view and catches sight of me, smiling beatifically. 

"And am I happy to see you!"

Not so long ago, I would have snarled and scoffed at Snow, but now I only helplessly smile back. My eyes flicker past her as a laden-down David steps into the foyer and he too smiles. 

"Would you like to meet your niece and nephew?"

The reminder of Emma's family reassignments makes my heart ache, but I wearily sit up straighter and nod. They were born over a week ago, on the seventh, but have been in the hospital's care all this time. When David crouches to pull back the elastic edge of the fabric sack strapped snugly to his chest, I marvel at how small the twins still are. Legs intertwined, the babies rest boneless against their father's chest, one of them peering blearily at me.

"Johanna and James," David says quietly and I unconsciously reach out as though to touch Johanna's head, just above her half-open eyes. Then I am seized by awful memories, David and his first born, blood running freely as he fought off my best guardsmen to send Emma to that awful world where she would grow up broken and alone. Before I can snatch my hand back, David's larger one has grasped my fingers firmly. "Hey, no drama this time, okay? We're good, so let's keep it that way. Kids, meet your Auntie Regina."

Dark wisps of hair are feather-soft against my fingertips as I gently touch Johanna's head and then James'.

"They're beautiful. Welcome home you two. All of you. It's been far too quiet without you."

The statement is so very true and I will be grateful to have them around once more to make the loneliness less draining.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was an actually verbal exchange. I kid you not. 
> 
> Me: "He's a little Machiavellian for a Leo." Ariestess: *deadpan* "That's his mother's doing." 
> 
> And yes, I laughed my ass off.


	40. Summer Lily

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At last, we come to the end... that is also a beginning.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG, I'm so SORRY everyone! I completely lost track of time and the last little bits that needed to be completed. At some point, there will be little follow up stories in this universe, so stay posted!

++ Emma ++

(8-20-13)

It's not fair! I can't miss the birth of my second child!

Too many weeks away, too many weeks of lousy sleep and cramping stress and this damn forest's crappy food. I'm a wreck and I need my loved ones so bad that I'm in physical pain from missing them.

"Soon now," soothes Winter's smooth, cheerful voice, sensing as she always does the stress in my body where I'm draped all over her back. Normally I would enjoy the headlong rush through the skies, the griffin's huge body a powerhouse beneath me, but all I can feel is that hard, insistent yank at my soul dragging me ever northward to the part of the Enchanted Forest that is home to Storybrooke now.

Beside Winter and I, her enormous mate, the regal Mandri, swoops up from below and even I have to smile at Aurora's delighted laughter. That girl is a natural aerial rider, just the right mix of careful and reckless. I don't envy Mulan, clinging to the younger woman, her expression set stoically.

"There!" Mandri says suddenly, his mental voice deep and resonant. I think Mulan actually makes an undignified sound as the enormous male banks and drops, an inky streak against the green forest below. I grab deeply at snowy feathers as Winter screeches and dives after her mate. It's like being astride a tornado, the emerald carpet of my home rushing up like a hammer blow, the wind an animal roar over my body.

Man, what a rush!

Once we level out, streaking over the tips of the trees, I swallow my internal organs back to their proper places and hug Winter as best I can.

"Somehow, I have to find a way to thank you two for getting us home," I call out over the wind and Winter vibrates with a surprisingly human-sounding chuckle.

"Our pleasure, Emma! I for one look forward to meeting your kin!"

Swooping and cutting sinuously through the air, the griffins shift to the east and I shout with a burst of exuberance at the glitter of a large body of water. The lake, with those tall mountains on the far shore and the castle and...

Storybrooke.

The tears streaking from eye to temple and wetting my hair are not just from the wind.

There are shouts and gawking faces as we flash by, but no weapons are deployed as the guards see me and Aurora waving frantically. 

"The hospital will be towards the far side," I shout, reaching out through the bond I share with my beloved, shocked when it pulls at me from a different direction. "Wait! She's at the house, Winter! To the right! By the huge tree!"

"Ooooo!" she marvels, banking with an energetic flap that launches her right over a startled Mandri's back. "A marvelous tree! It's rare I find one I can climb!"

"Just stay away from the apple tree," I laugh, lightheaded with relief to be here at last and her laughter mixes with mine.

Banking around the house, Winter shows me the crops have grown significantly in the almost three weeks we've been gone, but my eyes are only for the white siding and the dark green trim, for the faces in the open windows. Finally, Winter backwings to a neat landing on the street and I nearly break my fingers yanking at the rope harness keeping me on her body.

"Go and be with your mate," she encourages and gives me a gentle push with a eagle-like hand nearly the size of my torso as I slide to the ground.

I don't hesitate to get my feet under me and race up the brick walk to nearly smash down the ugly brown door.

 

++ Regina ++

It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

Stressed and hurting and aching with the loneliness of being separated from Emma, these last few weeks have been darkened by his absence. Everyone has been so good to me, doting and patient, but it's not the same. And today, the Piglet decided that the full moon is the perfect time to make her entrance.

That was hours ago. Endless hours that have left me exhausted in body and soul.

Then, I feel it.

Like the phantom pain of a missing limb, that sweet, hot energy courses into me and Lily stirs to anxious life within the grip of my tired body. The voices of my attendants fade away as, like a miracle, a disheveled and wild-eyed Emma appears in the bedroom doorway, clinging there as though he can barely hold himself up. His handsome face lights up in echo of my own relief and adoration and in an instant, everyone gets out of his way and I am engulfed in his embrace.

"Gina," he whispers over and over again and all I can do is cry like the helpless infant finally arriving.

The animal instinct of birth that has been shaking me for endless hours builds to the climax as exhaustion fades away with the presence of my beloved. Everything is hazy, the intelligent parts of my brain far away, words turned to gibberish. Like my curse breaking, I feel emptied out, a dam shattered by the unfathomable weight of trapped water.

It is dim and quiet and dizzying for an endless time as I settle back into my skin, called home by the intense mossy gaze of my beloved... and the thin, lusty cry of the tiny life I have birthed.

"Lily," I slur and squirm in Emma's strong arms, but grow still as she appears, wrapped in arms that are not ours. Still with my upper brain a bit offline, I barely register Doctor Kimba, my clearing eyes riveted on my little daughter. Dark hands settle the tiny weight to my chest, her small form braced there by Emma's torso pressed to mine. It's not until his big hand moves, settling gingerly to her weakly squirming body, that I remember to blink. She melts into the contours of my body, a visceral warmth where we touch, skin to skin. Emma's gentle kisses to my cheek and temple give me the courage to raise my hand, visibly shaking, to rest fingertips on her warm skin. These hands that have stolen and killed, this blackened heart that had once so utterly forgotten how to love, these are hers now, are ours.

Weeping openly, I can't stop touching her, still only half-convinced that she's real. It had been like this with Henry too, and his presence in my life had never been fraught with such drama as has plagued this long pregnancy. I barely note the aftershocks as my body finishes the job and gentle hands wipe my skin and remove all the traces of the birth from our bed.

"Oh Gina…"

I sympathize completely at the wonder in Emma's voice and in his touch. Lily's tiny nose wrinkles up and she whines and makes strange babbling noises that sound so much like complaints that I can't hold in my watery giggles.

"Nice timing, Savior," I whisper and manage to tear my eyes away from Lily to bury my nose in his shaggy hair and breathe in the smells of him.

"I'm sorry I was away for so long, your Highness," he teases back softly. "Glad I made it."

"Me too."

 

++ Mulan ++

Exhausted from the draining trip and all the uncertainties that we have been living under, I'm entirely happy with sprawling out in the shade of the overgrown shrubbery that rings the front yard to watch Winter gleefully explore the massive tree that graces the property. Mandri is content with the open courtyard… driveway in front of the building we took over so long ago, resting like a cat with Aurora curled up on his forelegs to rest and chat. I have greatly enjoyed the unexpected friendship with the griffins, even as the reality of flight does not sit at all well with me.

There is a steady stream of people gathering, but few go into the house. I suspect that the sight of the griffins is something that is making the rounds through town. Soon enough, someone will have the courage to approach one of them and make friends.

The cries of pain and effort from the room upstairs naturally worry me, but I stay where I am. There is no cause for undue alarm and I would be useless anyway. Childbirth is not something I have experience with. Give me a battlefield dressing any day. Shaking my head at my thoughts, I gather myself to stand up and stretch.

"I've spent too much time with Emma, clearly,"

Both griffins radiate amusement in my head and I see Winter's attention focus suddenly even as a familiar presence appears at the edge of the hedges. Eyes glued to the upstairs windows, Ruby's expression is conflicted, her eyes widening as she catches sight of Winter perched in the tree like an enormous bird, and then she notices me.

Her expression is a riot of mixed emotions that I can sympathize with. I have thought endlessly of the kiss she sent me away with, the welcome shock of the gesture and what it could mean to us both.

"Ruby," I hear myself say helplessly, conflicted with what to do now and I swear I hear Winter sigh in fond exasperation. Though that's enough to get me moving and her arm is smooth beneath my hand. "I've… missed you."

"You're not in your armor."

It wasn't at all what I expected her to say and by the twist of her mouth, not what Ruby herself expected to say either. I truth, the heavy leather pants are out of place in this heat, though I had shed my heavy tunic once on the ground.

"It's surprisingly cold in flight. My armor is among our things. How are you?"

It's amusing to see how distracted she is by the quiet presence of the two griffins, her protective instincts close to the surface.

"They're friends, I promise."

It takes a long moment, but she finally begins to relax just a bit and I realize something with a guilty start.

"It's a full moon tonight. Of course. Hey."

Finally, the riverstone gaze fully rests on me and the full moon is strong there, no matter the hot sun beating down.

 

++ Ruby ++

My instincts are a jumble of conflict, my hackles raised over new monsters in my territory, relief at packmates returned safely, pacing worry at one of mine in distress, wanting to meet the coming child.

No shock Granny'd thrown me out hours and hours ago.

Not shifting last night hasn't helped either, but I wanted to be human and accessible to Regina while the stress of birth built up in her and we all took turns sitting with her for moral support. So no real shock my brain is having trouble catching up with Mulan suddenly standing in front of me.

"Hey," she says again, softly and pulls me away from the walkway leading to the house. I would not have guessed how badly I'd needed something as simple as a calm touch, her body solid and welcome in my arms. Yep, I guess I really did miss her as much as Emma, there's no use denying it.

"I missed you."

My whisper earns me a hard squeeze that I relish.

"I missed you as well."

Her breath is hot and fast against my ear, her mouth faintly nuzzling and I instantly feel the knot of worry loosen at how I'd since guerilla kissed her as they were leaving. Not my smoothest move, no. But her body sure isn't telling me off, one arm cradling my neck, her other hand stroking my back.

Anything else we might say is fractured by a last, wrenching cry from poor Regina, echoed by the weaker squall of baby Lily's lungs. Weak with relief, I lean away from Mulan's warmth to look longing at the window to the master bedroom. Oh how part of me wants to be there, but too many of us would only be stressful and get underfoot. The shiver of magic in the air calms with Lily's voice and a ton of the tension in me drains away as well, knowing that her first step has been taken, her breath good and strong.

"The pack has grown."

"More like we're whole again," I hear myself murmur and don't fight the distraction of her hand on my chin. It's not a fancy kiss, but eloquent and sweet and makes my stomach dance.

"Indeed," Mulan hums against my lips and teases me with a few more soft kisses before dragging me back over the shade of the trees. As much as there's a very real workaholic part of me that balks at being tugged down to lean against her shoulder, I'm happy to stay put and decompress for a bit. Aurora's happy calling to the griffin in the tree rouses me from a half-doze and the girl startles and grins when she sees us. Ah well, she's family to Mulan, so I'll accept any teasing headed my way. When I gesture, she quickly joins us.

"Good to see you, Aurora."

She returns the sentiment, but fidgets until Mulan chuckles warmly and gestures the teen to sit and cuddle into her other side. There isn't even a shred of jealousy in me for their closeness because I completely understand it. I'm desperately hoping to rekindle that sort of friendship with Snow and Emma now that things are looking to settle down.

It will be a blessing.

 

++ Henry ++

Feeling completely intimidated by the responsibility, I cradle my little sister close and take the stairs nice and slow. She's so pretty, her little squidgy face peaceful where she's quiet in my arms. Emma should be doing this, or Mom if she wasn't so tired, but not me. But Emma wouldn't take no for an answer and sent me off, trusting me with Lily's safety. It's terrifying.

Thank goodness I've gotten some practice with the twins! 

When I see all the people in the foyer, I almost stumble, but Granny's hands are suddenly on my shoulders and I feel better. Everyone's really quiet as I finish walking downstairs with my important bundle. Nervously, I clear my throat and try to talk loud enough to be heard, but not wake the baby. "Hi, everyone. This is Lily. I don't know if she's going to get a middle name or anything, or even what last name she's gonna have. Not that it matters to me. Isn't she pretty?"

I don't look at anyone, because I can't look away from Lily's little face. Some hands reach out to barely touch her fuzzy head of dark hair like Mom's, some others touching her little feet in their pajama booties. When she jerks suddenly and her eyes snap open, I freeze as she looks around wildly around for a moment.

"Hey Piglet," I whisper and she instantly focuses on my voice, thrilling me. "Do you remember me? I've been reading to you all the time while you were waiting to be born. You and me are going to have a ton of fun when you get bigger and stronger and I'm always going to be here for you, no matter what, okay?"

When someone sniffles, I realize that it's not just me that's a little teary. Blinking them away, I smile and she blinks sleepily at me. Her eyes are paler than Mom's, more like milk chocolate, shaded with a little bit of blue, which is pretty cool, but she's too little to really look like any of us yet. It's gonna be awful fun to watch her grow and change.

"Why doesn't she smile?" I wonder and Granny's arm wraps around my shoulder in a half-hug. 

"It takes time to learn how. Usually, when newborns smile? It's gas."

There's a low wave of chuckles through the crowd and I wonder if they're messing with me.

"Henry," a familiar voice calls gently and I finally look away from Lily's face to meet Aurora's beaming smile. She's become like a big sister to me and I willingly go over to accept the offered hug, but jerk to a halt at the huge-- and I mean huge-- creatures standing over her and Mulan and Ruby. They're griffins! And they gotta be almost half the size of Iyla! The smaller one is all white, dusted with flecks of black and trimmed in a pale blue with fancy swirls of more blue all over her yellowish beak. The big one is inky black and glossy as a raven. I might come up to the middle of the big one's chest and either of them could bite even Michael in half.

Not a nice thought.

"She's beautiful," says a sweet woman's voice I don't know and the big white head leans down into to look closely at me and the baby. "Emma told us much about you, young Henry. I'm pleased to meet you at last."

"That's you talking!"

The beak can't change expression, but her pale blue eyes crinkle into a smile. With Aurora and Mulan each touching my shoulders, I swallow hard and step out to the edge of the covered porch, careful to stay in the shade.

"Indeed. I am Winter and this is my mate Mandri."

"Young prince," says a really deep man's voice and the bigger griffin bows his head. "And princess."

"Thank you for getting Emma home. Mom was having trouble, I could tell. She was so tired and Lily was being stubborn until he got here and everything came out okay." My grin is all mixed up with my tears as I look up at Mulan and Aurora. "You too. I've missed you both. Mom has too. We're really glad you're home."

"As are we, Henry," Mulan tells me quietly and smiles as warm as I've ever seen her smile, echoed by Aurora and Ruby.

 

++ Snow ++

It takes some effort to ignore the enormous griffins-- I've never seen anything like them-- but I do so in order to zero in on Henry and Lily. Sure, I'd been around for much of the long birth, but I have yet to actually meet our newest family member. Even the twins were getting agitated over the energies in the house, soothed now that Emma's back and Lily is out in the world with us. I want to race up the stairs and pounce on my eldest, but I've choked it down and shown restraint as I know he needs to reconnect with Regina.

"Oh Henry," I breathe out. "She's beautiful."

"Isn't she?" He beams, as proud as any parent, and his encircling arms are strong and gentle. "I knew she would be, but I'm so glad I finally get to see. Hey Lily, this is our gramma, Snow. She pretends to be our aunt 'cause it makes more sense. Someday, I'm going to read you my book, and then I'm going to tell you all the stuff that isn't in there. You can help me write it all down, sis, get the whole story told, the way it really happened. And you're a big part of it too, we both are."

It's fairly obvious that he's barely aware of his audience, completely caught up with the way Lily stares at him, intently listening to his voice. She barely reacts when I stroke the fuzzy dark hair and sniffle back happy tears. David joins us, the twins swaddled close to his broad chest, and beams at Lily. "Hey there, sweet girl."

He blinks up at the pair of griffins, standing peacefully with Aurora and Mulan and smiles.

"I see you got home in style. Thank you for bringing them."

The pair of griffins nod gracefully, the smaller white one cocking her head to peer at the twins.

"Emma is right. There is an awful lot of royalty in this town."

My bark of laughter isn't feigned and I sketch a quick bow to the pair. "I agree completely. And they're archaic titles at best."

Lily abruptly starts fussing and squirming, causing Henry alarm. "What's wrong?"

"She sounds hungry," David chuckles and herds the boy off even as the twins start to echo their niece/cousin. Bowing my head to our guests again, I retreat after them, briefly connecting with a few of the people who have gathered before heading up the stairs. It's stuffy in the big house, the oppressive summer heat close and thick, no matter the open windows. 

Upstairs, David is just peeking around the door and I join him to watch the children rejoin their parents. A soundly sleeping Regina jerks awake to embrace both of them, Lily still securely protected in her brother's arms. Emma's smile is adoring in the light from the big windows.

"We'll give them a bit," David murmurs. "And then he can meet his little brother and sister. Agreed?"

"Agreed. C'mon handsome. Our own sound hungry too and we have friends to catch up with."

 

++ Emma ++

As exhausted and exhilarated as I am, mundane reality has reasserted itself in being tossed out of the exam room by a immovable Doctor Kimba. The hospital trip for mother and daughter is merely a formality, the good doctor was adamant about that, but she was also adamant that my stinking self needed to shower. So, here I am, borrowing a utilitarian stall in the staff areas of the hospital to lather up. Despite being separated from mate and cub, I have to say the hot water and good, sudsy cleaning supplies are pure bliss after all these weeks of roughing it. A nice, normal meal and a soft bed will set me to rights. As I scrub shampoo my scalp and my hands fall to my cheeks, I add a badly needed trim to the list.

I must look like a freakin' bear with my hair in my eyes and enough beard to look like a proper wilderness survivalist. Things like hygiene get lost in war…

Practicing my bear roar in the echoing shower stall earns a squeak of surprise from some unknown female in the larger space and I snicker to myself as there is a soft thud of the main door. Oops.

Finishing up with getting clean, I soak a towel with the water running from my overgrown hair and beard and another on the rest of my body. And bonus points for the good doctor as the blue scrubs she shoved into my hands before running me off are a good fit. Barefoot and damp, but blissfully clean, I wad up my dirties in the towels and pad back to my family.

"Emma!"

My delight isn't faked as I spot my folks coming down the hall towards me. "Hey Charmings! So good to see you!"

Snow's hug is strong and her eyes are as bright and clear as her smile. I'm powerfully reminded suddenly of this first friend I made here, the mousy teacher, lovesick over a hospitalized John Doe who really gave me a place to belong. And in the mossy green eyes I inherited and passed on to Henry, those memories are reflected back.

"Oh Emma, it's so good to see you!"

It takes a moment for the odd bulges swaddled across David's chest and Snow's petite stature to register. "Is that the twins? Lemme see!"

Grinning at my stage whisper, David pulls away the stretchy fabric and I see my little brother and sister for the first time. "James and Johanna, meet your older sibling. Uncle Emma, your niece and nephew."

We all trade wry grins at the deception and I slide in careful hands to lift out one of them. "They're so tiny."

"Should have seen them a couple weeks ago. That's James, by the way."

James is a cute little bug, clear blue eyes peering at me curiously while he sucks on a tiny fist. He doesn't smile back when I grin widely at him, but those alert eyes light up.

"Awesome. So good to meet you, little man. Hey, walk with me and we can all check in with the rest of the pack."

"You need a haircut," Snow nags me randomly as we walk and I crack up. The insanity of my life is almost predictable by now.

And I've learned to love it

 

++ Henry ++

It's late now and it's been a long day, but only Lily seems to be able to sleep right now. Me, I'm sitting in a chair next to the exam bed where Mom is resting and my head is on her leg while she pets my hair. 

"Things have been crazy for awhile, huh?"

Half sitting up, I watch her familiar face and the emotions that race all over it. That still kinda blows my mind away, how open she's gotten.

"They have," she murmurs quietly and I can see the conflict that she'll never get rid of. That's hard on all of us, knowing who she once was and what she once did. I still can't really get my head around it, even though I was so angry and hateful there for awhile. "But I think they've gotten better."

Right on cue, Emma shoulders into the room, carrying one of the twins, Snow right behind him with the other and Lily wakes up with a cranky cry. The sound wakes Ruby up with a jerk where she's been asleep on the other padded table in the room, wrapped in her red cloak. Babies are traded around and Lily is scooped up by Emma so he can sit on Mom's other side.

For a bit, everyone is talking and laughing and catching up while Lily eats again and the twins get fussed over too. Granny manages to sneak in and Mom is thrilled with the takeout cup of something icy cold and pink, playfully swatting at Emma when he steals some of the slushies. He keeps touching kissing and touching her, which is still weird for me, but I'm so totally glad to watch it too. The two people I adore most in the world, and love got to save them both. Well, okay, there's three people I adore most in the world now. Like she knows I'm thinking about her, Lily watches me where she lays quietly with her tiny head tucked up at the bottom of Mom's throat.

Reaching out, I pet her fuzzy head and can't stop the big, goofy grin on my face.

"They've gotten way better."

Everyone is calming down now, just happy to be together and I get a sudden idea. Shifting to grab my backpack that I had somehow remembered to grab, I rustle around in it until I find what I'm looking for and pull the book out. Not the 'Once Upon a Time' book, that will come later, but my favorite Winnie the Pooh book. It crackles pleasantly when I open it and I flash one more smile to my little sister before looking down at the words.

And just like I did all those months ago that terrible night when my folks fought, but the fighting somehow made us all closer, I start reading aloud to my little sister, just like I promised I would.

"One day when Pooh Bear had nothing else to do, he thought he would do something, so he went round to Piglet's house to see what Piglet was doing. It was still snowing as he stumped over the white forest track, and he expected to find Piglet warming his toes in front of the fire, but to his surprise her saw that the door was open, and the more he looked inside the more Piglet wasn't there." [1]

 

[1]- The opening paragraph from 'The House at Pooh Corner' by A.A. Milne


End file.
